GIFT   OF 
MICHAEL.  RE£SE 


Z^t  (gfaca  @ttoS5 


(AUTHOR'S  EDITION) 


The  hangings  divided    and   lamp  in    hand    Joanna    Sedley    entered 
the  apartnnent. 


The  Black  Arrow 


^  tAk  of  f^e  ttoo  (Ro6e6 


BY 


ROBERT    LOUIS    STEVENSON 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1895 

[All  rights  reserved^ 


Copyright,  1888,  by 
CHARLES   SCRIENER'S  SONS 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKSiNOiriG  COMPANY 

NEW   YORK 


Critic  on  the  Hearth,  '^?,. 

No  one  but  myself  knoTVS  what  I  liave  suffered,  nor 
what  my  books  have  gained,  by  your  unsleeping  watchfulness 
and  admirable  pertinacity.  And  now  here  is  a  volume  that 
goes  into  the  world  and  lacks  your  imprimatur  :  a  strange  thing 
in  our  joint  lives  ;  and  the  reason  of  it  stranger  still !  I  have 
watched  with  interest,  with  pain,  and  at  length  with  amuse- 
ment, youi-  unavailing  attempts  to  perase  The  Black  Arrow  ; 
and  I  think  I  should  lack  humour  indeed,  if  I  let  the  occasion 
slip  and  did  not  place  your  name  in  the  fly-leaf  of  the  only 
book  of  mine  that  you  have  never  read — and  never  will  read. 

That  others  may  display  more  constancy  is  still  my  hope. 
The  tale  was  wi-itten  years  ago  for  a  particular  audience  and 
(I  may  say)  in  rivaliy  with  a  particular  author;  I  think  I 
should  do  well  to  name  him,  Mr.  Alfred  E.  Phillips.  It  was 
not  without  its  reward  at  the  time.  I  could  not,  indeed,  dis- 
place Mr.  Phillips  from  his  well- won  priority ;  but  in  the  eyes 
of  readers  who  thought  less  than  nothing  of  Treasure  Island, 
Tlie  Black  Arrow  was  supposed  to  mark  a  clear  advance. 
Those  who  read  volumes  and  those  who  read  stoiy  papers  be- 
long to  different  worlds.  The  verdict  on  Treasure  Island  was 
reversed  in  the  other  court ;  I  wonder,  will  it  be  the  same  with 
its  successor? 

R.  I.  5. 

Saranac  Lake,  April  8,  1888. 


32095 


CONTENTS. 

^rofogue. 

PAOK 

John  A3iend-all, 1 

CHAPTER   I. 
At  the  Sign  of  the  Sun  in  Kettley,        ....    23 

CHAPTER  n. 
In  the  Fen, 34 

CHAPTER  III 
The  Fen  Ferry,     .  ' ^ 

CHAPTER   IV. 
A  Greenwood  Company, 51 

CHAPTER  V. 
"  Bloody  as  the  Hunter," 62 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

PAGE 

To  THE  Day's  End, ,73 

CHAPTER  VII, 
The  Hooded  Face, 82 


CHAPTER  I. 
Dick  Asks  Questions, 94 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Two  Oaths, 105 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  Room  oyer  the  Chapel, 115 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Passage, 124 

CHAPTER  V. 
How  Dick  Changed  Sides, 130 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  I. 

PAGC 

The  House  by  the  Shore, 143 

CHAPTER  n. 
A  Skirmish  in  the  Dark, 151 

CHAPTER  III. 
St.  Bride's  Cross, 160 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Good  Hope, 164 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Good  Hope  {Contmned), 176 

CHAPTER   VI. 
The  Good  Hope  {Concluded)^ 184 


CHAPTER  I. 


The  Den, 


192 


CHAPTER  n. 
«  In  Mine  Enemies'  House," 202 


X  COI^TENTS. 

CHAPTER  III. 

PAOB 

The  Dead  Spy, 214 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Ix  THE  Abbey  Church, 224 

CHAPTER  V. 
Earl  Risingham, 236 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Arblaster  Again,  .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .241 


(J$ooft  0-Ctoomac^, 


CHAPTER  I. 
The  Shrill  Trumpet, 255 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Battle  op  Shoreby 264 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  Battle  op  Shoreby  (Concluded),  .        .        .        .273 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Sack  op  Shoreby, 278 


CONTEXTS.  XI 

CHAPTER  V. 

PAGS 

Night  in  the  Woods  :  Alicia  Risingham,  .        .        .291 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Night  in  the  Woods  {Concluded) :  Dick  and  Joan,  .        .  301 

CHAPTER  Vn. 
Dicks  Revenge, 313 

CHAPTER   VIII. 
Conclusion, 319 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  Hangings  Divided  and  Lamp  in  Hand  Joanna 

Sedley  Entered  the  Apartment,  .         .  Fr<mti»piece. 

In  Bone  and  Body  He  was  Unusually  Slender,    .        .    2(3 

Just  then  the  Sun  Rose  and  Shone  Full  on  His  Veiled 
Face, 84 

Through    the    High    Stained-glass    Window    a    Black 
Arrow  Crashed, 108 

If  III  Was  Intended  He  Would  Sell  His  Life  Dear,  .  116 

He  Span  Round  and  Rou^d  in  Mid-air,    ....  132 

Standing    Respectfully    before   His   Noble    Prisonek 
Related  the  Story  op  His  Fortunes,        .        .        .  162 

Dick  and  the  Spy  Were   Sprawling  together  in  its 
Folds,        .        . 212 

At  the  Same  Instant  They  Delivered  Their  Discharge,  230 

"Ay,"  said  Tom,  "Now  y' are  Trussed  Ye  Would  Cozen 

Us," 246 

That  Same    Shrill-voiced   Trumpet    that    Began  the 
Alarm, 256 

Thereupon,  Still  Holding  Joanna,  He  Began  to  Run,  306 


^ 


THE     BLACK     ARROW 

A   TALE   OF   THE   TWO  EOSES. 


PEOLOGUE. 


JOHN    AMEND-.\LL. 


On  a  certain  afternoon,  in  the  late  springtime,  the  bell 
upon  Tunstall  Moat  House  was  heard  ringing  at  an  unac- 
customed hour.  Far  and  near,  in  the  forest  and  in  the 
fields  along  the  river,  people  began  to  desert  their  labours 
and  huriT  towards  the  sound  ;  and  in  Tunstall  hamlet  a 
group  of  poor  country-folk  stood  wondering  at  the  sum- 
mons. 

Tunstall  hamlet  at  that  period,  in  the  reign  of  old  King 
Heurv  VI.,  wore  much  the  same  appearance  as  it  wears  to- 
day. A  score  or  so  of  houses,  heavily  framed  with  oak, 
stood  scattered  in  a  long  green  valley  ascending  from  the 
river.  At  the  foot,  the  road  crossed  a  bridge,  and  mount- 
ing on  the  other  side,  disappeared  into  the  fringes  of  the 
forest  on  its  wav  to  the  Moat  House,  and  further  forth  to 


2  THE    BLACK    ARKOW. 

Holjwood  Abbey.  Half-way  up  the  village,  the  church 
stood  among  yews.  On  every  side  the  slopes  were 
crowned  and  the  view  bounded  by  the  green  elms  and 
greening  oak-trees  of  the  forest. 

Hard  by  the  bridge,  there  was  a  stone  cross  upon  a 
knoll,  and  here  the  group  had  collected — half  a  dozen 
women  and  one  tall  fellow  in  a  russet  smock — discussing 
what  the  bell  betided.  An  express  had  gone  through  tho 
hamlet  half  an  hour  before,  and  dinink  a  pot  of  ale  in  the 
saddle,  not  daring  to  dismount  for  the  hurry  of  his  errand  ; 
but  he  had  been  ignorant  himself  of  what  was  forward, 
and  only  bore  sealed  letters  from  Sir  Daniel  Brackley  to 
Sir  Oliver  Oates,  the  parson,  who  kept  the  Moat  House  in 
the  master's  absence. 

But  now  there  was  the  noise  of  a  horse  ;  and  soon,  out 
of  the  edge  of  the  wood  and  over  the  echoing  bridge,  there 
rode  up  young  Master  Richard  Shelton,  Sir  Daniel's  ward. 
He,  at  the  least,  would  know,  and  they  hailed  him  and 
begged  him  to  explain.  He  drew  bridle  wiUingiy  enough 
— a  young  fellow  not  yet  eighteen,  sun-browned  and  grey- 
eyed,  in  a  jacket  of  deer's  leather,  with  a  black  velvet  col- 
lar, a  green  hood  upon  his  head,  and  a  steel  cross-bow  at 
his  back.  The  express,  it  appeared,  had  brought  great 
news.  A  battle  was  impending.  Sir  Daniel  had  sent  for 
every  man  that  could  draw  a  bow  or  carry  a  bill  to  go  post- 
aaste  to  Kettley,  under  pain  of  his  severe  displeasure  ;  but 
for  whom  they  were  to  fight,  or  of  where  the  battle  was 
expected,  Dick  knew  nothing.     Sir  Oliver  would  come 


JOHX    AMEND-ALL.  3 

shortly  himself,  and  Bennet  Hatch  was  arming  at  that 
moment,  for  he  it  was  who  should  lead  the  party. 

"It  is  the  ruin  of  this  kind  land,"  a  woman  said.  "  If 
the  barons  live  at  war,  ploughfolk  must  eat  roots." 

"Nay,"  said  Dick,  "every  man  that  follows  shall  have 
sixpence  a  day,  and  archers  twelve. " 

"  If  they  live,"  returned  the  woman,  **  that  may  very  well 
be  ;  but  how  if  they  die,  my  master  ?  " 

"  They  cannot  better  die  than  for  their  natural  lord," 
said  Dick. 

"Xo  natural  lord  of  mine,"  said  the  man  in  the  smock. 
"  I  followed  the  Walsinghams  ;  so  we  all  did  down  Brierly 
way,  till  two  years  ago,  come  Candlemas.  And  now  1 
must  side  with  Brackley  !  It  was  the  law  that  did  it ;  call 
ye  that  natural  ?  But  now,  what  with  Sir  Daniel  and  what 
with  Sir  Oliver — that  knows  more  of  law  than  honesty — 
I  have  no  natural  lord  but  poor  King  Harry  the  Sixt,  God 
bless  him  ! — the  poor  innocent  that  cannot  tell  his  light 
hand  from  his  left." 

"Ye  speak  with  an  ill  tongue,  friend,"  answered  Dick, 
"  to  miscaU  your  good  master  and  my  lord  the  king  in  the 
same  libel  But  King  Harry — praised  be  the  saints  ! — 
has  come  again  into  his  right  mind,  and  will  have  all 
things  peaceably  ordained.  And  as  for  Sir  Daniel,  y'  are 
very  brave  behind  his  back.  But  I  will  be  no  tale-bearer  ; 
and  let  that  suffice." 

"I  say  no  harm  of  you,  Master  Richard,"  returned  the 
peasant.     "Y'  are  a  lad  ;  but  when  ye  come  to  a  man's 


4  THE    BLACK    ARROW, 

inches,  ye  will  find  ye  have  an  empty  pocket.  I  say  no 
more  :  the  saints  help  Sir  Daniel's  neighbours,  and  the 
Blessed  Maid  protect  his  wards  ! " 

"  Clipsby,"  said  Eichard,  **  you  speak  what  I  cannot 
hear  with  honour.  Sir  Daniel  is  my  good  master,  and  my 
guardian." 

"Come,  now,  will  ye  read  me  a  riddle?"  returned 
Clipsby.     "  On  whose  side  is  Sir  Daniel  ?  " 

"I  know  not,"  said  Dick,  colouring  a  little;  for  his 
guardian  had  changed  sides  continually  in  the  troubles  of 
that  period,  and  every  change  had  brought  him  some  in- 
crease of  fortune. 

"  Ay,"  returned  Clipsby,  "  you,  nor  no  man.  For,  in- 
deed, he  is  one  that  goes  to  bed  Lancaster  and  gets  u]d 
York." 

Just  then  the  bridge  rang  under  horse-shoe  iron,  and 
the  party  turned  and  saw  Bennet  Hatch  come  galloping — 
a  brown-faced,  grizzled  fellow,  heavy  of  hand  and  grim  of 
mien,  armed  with  sword  and  spear,  a  steel  salet  on  his 
head,  a  leather  jack  upon  his  body.  He  was  a  great  man 
in  these  parts  ;  Su-  Daniel's  right  hand  in  peace  and  war, 
and  at  that  time,  by  his  master's  interest,  baihfi:  of  the 
hundred. 

"Clipsby,"  he  shouted,  "off  to  the  Moat  House,  and 
send  all  other  laggards  the  same  gate.  Bowyer  will  give 
you  jack  and  salet.  "We  must  ride  before  cm-few.  Look 
to  it :  he  that  is  last  at  the  lych-gate  Sir  Daniel  _  shall  re- 
ward.    Look  to  it  riiiht  well  I     I  know  vou  for  a  man  of 


JOIIX    AMKXD-AT.L.  5 

iiailglit.  Nauce,"  be  added,  to  oDe  of  the  womeu,  "  is  old 
Applevard  up  town  ?  " 

'■  I'll  warrant  you,"  replied  the  woman.  "In  his  field, 
for  sure." 

So  the  group  dispersed,  and  while  Clipsby  walked  leis- 
urely over  the  bridge,  Bennet  and  young  Shelton  rode  up 
the  road  together,  through  the  village  and  past  the 
church. 

"Ye  will  see  the  old  shrew,"  said  Bennet.  "  He  w^ill 
waste  more  time  grumbling  and  prating  of  Harry  the 
Fift  than  would  sei*ve  a  man  to  shoe  a  horse.  And  all 
because  he  has  been  to  the  French  wars  ! " 

The  house  to  which  they  were  bound  was  the  last  in  the 
village,  standing  alone  among  lilacs  ;  and  beyond  it,  on 
thi'ee  sides,  there  was  open  meadow  rising  towards  the 
borders  of  the  wood. 

Hatch  dismounted,  threw  his  rein  over  the  fence,  and 
walked  down  the  field,  Dick  keeping  close  at  his  elbow,  to 
where  the  old  soldier  was  digging,  knee-deep  in  his  cab- 
bages, and  now  and  again,  in  a  cracked  voice,  singing  a 
snatch  of  song.  He  was  all  dressed  in  leather,  only  his 
hood  and  tippet  were  of  black  frieze,  and  tied  with  scar- 
let ;  his  face  was  like  a  walnut-shell,  both  for  colour  and 
^^Tinkles  ;  but  his  old  grey  eye  was  still  clear  enough,  and 
his  sight  unabated.  Perhaps  he  was  deaf  ;  jDerhaps  he 
thought  it  unworthy  of  an  old  archer  of  Agincourt  to  pay 
any  heed  to  such  disturbances  ;  but  neither  the  surly 
notes  of  the  alarm  bell,  nor  the  near  approach  of  Bennet 


6  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

and  the  lad,  appeared  at  all  to  move  him  ;  and  he  con« 
tinned  obstinately  digging,  and  piped  up,  very  thin  and 
shaky  : 

"Now,  dear  lady,  if  thy  will  be, 
I  pray  you  tliat  you  will  rue  on  me." 

''Nick  Appleyard,"  said  Hatch,  "Sir  Oliver  commends 
him  to  you,  and  bids  that  ye  shall  come  within  this  hour 
to  the  Moat  House,  there  to  take  command." 

The  old  fellow  looked  up. 

"  Save  you,  my  masters  !  "  he  said,  grinning.  "  And 
where  goeth  Master  Hatch  ?  " 

"  Master  Hatch  is  off  to  Kettley,  with  every  man  that 
we  can  horse,"  returned  Bennet.  "There  is  a  fight  to- 
ward, it  seems,  and  my  lord  stays  a  reinforcement." 

"Ay,  verily,"  returned  Appleyard.  "  And  what  will  ye 
leave  me  to  garrison  withal  ?  " 

"  I  leave  you  six  good  men,  and  Sir  Oliver  to  boot,"  an- 
swered Hatch. 

"  It'll  not  hold  the  place,"  said  Appleyard  ;  "  the  num- 
ber sufficeth  not.  It  would  take  two  score  to  make  it 
good." 

"Why,  it's  for  that  we  came  to  you,  old  shrew!"  re- 
plied the  other.  "  Who  else  is  there  but  you  that  could 
do  aught  in  such  a  house  with  such  a  garrison  ?  " 

"  Ay  !  when  the  pinch  comes,  ye  remember  the  old 
shoe,*'  returned  Nick.  "  There  is  not  a  man  of  you  can 
back  a  horse   or  hold  a  bill ;  and  as  for  archery — St. 


.luIIX    AMEND- ALL.  7 

Michael !  if  old  Harry  the  Fift  were  back  again,  he 
would  stand  and  let  je  shoot  at  him  for  a  farthen  a 
shoot ! " 

*'  Nay,  Nick,  there's  some  can  draw  a  good  bow  yet,'* 
said  Bennet. 

"  Draw  a  good  bow  !  "  cried  Appleyard.  *'  Yes  !  But 
who'll  shoot  me  a  good  shoot  ?  It's  there  the  eye  comes 
in,  and  the  head  between  your  shoulders.  Now,  what 
might  you  call  a  long  shoot,  Bennet  Hatch  ?  " 

*' Well,"  said  Bennet,  looking  about  him,  "it  would  be 
a  long  shoot  from  here  into  the  forest." 

*'  Ay,  it  would  be  a  longish  shoot,"  said  the  old  fellow, 
turning  to  look  over  his  shoulder  ;  and  then  he  jDut  up 
his  hand  over  his  eyes,  and  stood  staring. 

"  "^Miy,  what  are  you  looking  at  ?  "  asked  Bennet,  with 
a  chuckle.     "  Do  you  see  Harry  the  Fift? " 

The  veteran  continued  looking  up  the  hill  in  silence. 
The  sun  shone  broadly  over  the  shelving  meadows  ;  a  few 
white  sheep  wandered  browsing  ;  all  was  still  but  the  dis- 
tant jangle  of  the  bell. 

"  What  is  it,  Appleyard  ?  "  asked  Dick. 

"Why,  the  birds,"  said  Appleyard. 

And,  sure  enough,  over  the  top  of  the  forest,  where  it 
ran  dovm  in  a  tongue  among  the  meadows,  and  ended  in 
a  pair  of  goodly  gi-een  elms,  about  a  bowshot  from  the 
field  where  they  were  standing,  a  flight  of  birds  was  skim- 
ming to  and  fro,  in  evident  disorder. 

"  What  of  the  birds  ?  "  said  Bennet. 


O  THE    ELACK    ARROW. 

"Ay!"  returned  Appleyard,  "y' are  a  wise  man  to  ga 
to  war,  Master  Bennet.  Birds  are  a  good  sentry ;  in 
forest  places  they  be  the  first  line  of  battle.  Look  you, 
now,  if  we  lay  here  in  camp,  there  might  be  archers 
skulking  down  to  get  the  wind  of  us ;  and  here  would 
you  be,  none  the  wiser  !  " 

*'  Why,  old  shrew,"  said  Hatch,  "  there  be  no  men 
nearer  us  than  Sir  Daniel's,  at  Kettley  ;  y'  are  as  safe  as 
in  London  Tower  ;  and  ye  raise  scares  upon  a  man  for  a 
few  chaffinches  and  sparrows !  " 

"  Hear  him  !  "  grinned  Appleyard.  "  How  many  a  rogue 
would  give  his  two  crop  ears  to  have  a  shoot  at  either  of 
us  ?  Saint  Michael,  man  !  they  hate  us  like  two  pole- 
cats ! " 

"  Well,  sooth  it  is,  they  hate  Sir  Daniel,"  answered 
Hatch,  a  little  sobered. 

"  Ay,  they  hate  Sir  Daniel,  and  they  hate  every  man 
that  serves  with  him,"  said  Appleyard ;  "and  in  the  first 
order  of  hating,  they  hate  Bennet  Hatch  and  old  Nicholas 
the  bowman.  See  ye  here  :  if  there  was  a  stout  fellow 
yonder  in  the  wood-edge,  and  you  and  I  stood  fair  for 
him — as,  by  Saint  George,  we  stand ! — which,  think  ye, 
would  he  choose  ?  " 

"  You,  for  a  good  wager,"  answered  Hatch. 

"  My  surcoat  to  a  leather  belt,  it  would  be  you  ! "  cried 
the  old  archer.  "Ye  burned  Grimstone,  Bennet — they'll 
ne'er  forgive  you  that,  my  master.  And  as  for  me,  I'll 
soon  be  in  a  good  place,  God  grant,  and  out  of  bow- 


JOHX    AMEND-ALL.  9 

shoot — avj  and  cannon-shoot — of  all  their  malices.  1 
am  an  old  man,  and  draw  fast  to  homeward,  where 
the  bed  is  ready.  But  for  tou,  Bennet,  t'  are  to  remain 
behind  here  at  vour  own  peril,  and  if  ve  come  to  my 
years  unhanged,  the  old  true-blue  English  spirit  will  be 
dead." 

"  Y'  are  the  shrewishest  old  dolt  in  Tunstall  Forest," 
returned  Hatch,  visibly  ruffled  by  these  threats.  ''  Get 
ye  to  your  arms  before  Su'  Oliver  come,  and  leave  pmting 
for  one  good  while.  An  ye  had  talked  so  much  with 
HaiTy  the  Fift,  his  ears  would  ha'  been  richer  than  his 
pocket." 

An  arrow  sang  in  the  air,  like  a  huge  hornet ;  it  struck 
old  Appleyard  between  the  shoulder-blades,  and  pierced 
him  clean  through,  and  he  fell  forward  on  his  face  among 
the  cabbages.  Hatch,  with  a  broken  cry,  leapt  into  the 
air;  then,  stooping  double, ^ he  ran  for  the  cover  of  the 
house.  And  in  the  meanwhile  Dick  Shelton  had  dropped 
behind  a  lilac,  and  had  his  crossbow  bent  and  shouldered, 
covenug  the  point  of  the  forest. 

Not  a  leaf  stirred.  The  sheep  were  patiently  browsing  ; 
the  birds  had  settled.  But  there  lay  the  old  man,  with 
a  cloth-yard  aiTow  standing  in  his  back ;  and  there  were 
Hatch  holding  to  the  gable,  and  Dick  crouching  and 
ready  behind  the  lilac  bush. 

*•'  D  ye  see  aught  ?  "  cried  Hatch. 

"Not  a  twig  stii'S,"  said  Dick. 

*'  I  think  shame  to  leave  him  lying,"  said  Bennet,  com' 


10  THE   BLACK    ARROW. 

ing  forward  once  more  with  hesitating  steps  and  a  very 
pale  countenance.  "  Keep  a  good  eye  on  the  wood,  Mas^ 
ter  Sbeltou — keep  a  clear  eye  on  the  wood.  The  saints 
assoil  us  I  here  was  a  good  shoot !  " 

Bennet  raised  the  old  archer  on  his  knee.  He  was  not 
yet  dead ;  his  face  worked,  and  his  eyes  shut  and  opened 
like  machineiy,  and  he  had  a  most  horrible,  ugly  look  of 
one  in  pain. 

"  Can  ye  hear,  old  Nick  ?  "  asked  Hatch.  *'  Have  ye  a 
last  wish  before  ye  wend,  old  brother  ?  " 

"Pluck  out  the  shaft,  and  let  me  pass,  a'  Mary's 
name  !"  gasped  Appleyard.  "I  be  done  with  Old  Eng- 
land.    Pluck  it  out !  " 

"  Master  Dick,"  said  Bennet,  "  come  hither,  and  pull 
me  a  good  pull  upon  the  arrow.  He  would  fain  pass,  the 
poor  sinner." 

Dick  laid  down  his  cross-bow,  and  pulling  hard  upon 
the  arrow,  drew  it  forth.  A  gush  of  blood  followed  ;  the 
old  archer  scrambled  half  upon  his  feet,  called  once  upon 
the  name  of  God,  and  then  fell  dead.  Hatch,  upon  his 
knees  among  the  cabbages,  prayed  fervently  for  the  wel- 
fare of  the  passing  spirit.  But  even  as  he  prayed,  it  was 
plain  that  his  mind  was  still  divided,  and  he  kept  ever  an 
eye  upon  the  comer  of  the  wood  from  which  the  shot  had 
come.  When  he  had  done,  he  got  to  his  feet  again,  drew 
off  one  of  his  mailed  gauntlets,  and  wiped  his  pale  face, 
which  was  all  wet  with  terror. 

"Ay,"  he  said,  "it'll  be  my  turn  next" 


JOHN    AMEND-ALL.  11 

"  Who  hath  done  this,  Bennet  ?  "  Richard  asked,  still 
holding  the  arrow  in  his  hand. 

"  Nay,  the  saints  know,"  said  Hatch.  *•  Here  are  a 
good  two  score  Christian  souls  that  we  have  hunted  out 
of  house  and  holding,  he  and  I.  He  has  paid  his  shot, 
poor  shrew,  nor  will  it  be  long,  mayhap,  ere  I  pay  mine. 
Sir  Daniel  driveth  over-hard." 

"This  is  a  strange  shaft,"  said  the  lad,  looking  at  the 
arrow  in  his  hand. 

"Ay,  by  my  faith  ! "  cried  Bennet.  "  Black,  and  black- 
feathered.  Here  is  an  ill-favoured  shaft,  by  my  sooth  ! 
for  black,  they  say,  bodes  burial.  And  here  be  words 
written.     Wipe  the  blood  away.     What  read  ye  ?  " 

'' ' Appidyaird  fro  Jon  Amend-All/''  read  Shelton. 
"  What  should  this  betoken  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  hke  it  not,"  returned  the  retainer,  shaking  his 
head.  "  John  Amend- All !  Here  is  a  rogue's  name  for 
those  that  be  up  in  the  world  !  But  why  stand  we  here 
to  make  a  mark  ?  Take  him  by  the  knees,  good  Master 
Shelton,  while  I  hft  him  by  the  shoulders,  and  let  us  lay 
him  in  his  house.  This  will  be  a  rai-e  shog  to  poor  Sir 
Oliver ;  he  will  turn  paper  colour  ;  ne  will  pray  like  a 
windmilL" 

They  took  up  the  old  archer,  and  carried  him  between 
them  into  his  house,  where  he  had  dwelt  alone.  And 
there  they  laid  him  on  the  floor,  out  of  regai'd  for  the 
mattress,  and  sought,  as  best  they  might,  to  straighten 
and  compose  his  limbs. 


1-2  TITE    ELACK    ARROW, 

Appleyard's  house  was  clean  and  bare.  There  was  a 
}3ed,  with  a  blue  cover,  a  cupboard,  a  great  chest,  a  pair 
of  joint-stools,  a  hinged  table  in  the  chimney  corner,  and 
hung  upon  the  wall  the  old  soldier's  armoury  of  bows  and 
defensive  armour.  Hatch  began  to  look  about  him  curi- 
ously. 

"  Xick  had  money,"  he  said.  "He  may  have  had  three 
score  pounds  put  by.  I  would  I  could  light  upon  't ! 
When  ye  lose  an  old  friend.  Master  Richard,  the  best  con- 
solation is  to  heir  him.  See,  now,  this  chest.  I  would 
go  a  mighty  wager  there  is  a  bushel  of  gold  therein.  He 
had  a  strong  hand  to  get,  and  a  hard  hand  to  keep  withal, 
had  Appleyard  the  archer.  Now  may  God  rest  his  spirit ! 
Near  eighty  year  he  was  afoot  and  about,  and  ever  get- 
ting ;  but  now  he's  on  the  broad  of  his  back,  poor  shrew, 
and  no  more  lacketh  ;  and  if  his  chattels  came  to  a  good 
friend,  he  would  be  merrier,  methinks,  in  heaven." 

'•Come,  Hatch,"  said  Dick,  "respect  his  stone-blind 
eyes.  Would  ye  rob  the  man  before  his  body  ?  Nay,  he 
would  walk  ! " 

Hatch  made  several  signs  of  the  cross  ;  but  by  this 
time  his  natural  complexion  had  returned,  and  he  was  not 
easily  to  be  dashed  from  any  purpose.  It  would  have 
gone  hard  with  the  chest  had  not  the  gate  sounded,  and 
presently  after  the  door  of  the  house  opened  and  ad- 
mitted a  tall,  portly,  ruddy,  black-eyed  man  of  near  fifty, 
in  a  surplice  and  black  robe. 

"Api^leyard  " the  newcomer  was  saying,  as  he  en* 


JOUN    AME^'D-ALL.  13 

tered  ;  but  he  stopped  dead,  "  Ave  Maria  !  "  he  cried. 
*'  Saints  be  our  shield  !     What  cheer  is  this  ?  " 

"Cold  cheer  with  Appleyard,  sir  parson,"  answered 
Hatch,  with  perfect  cheerfulness.  "  Shot  at  his  own 
door,  and  aUghteth  even  now  at  purgatory  gates.  Ay  I 
there,  if  tales  be  true,  he  shall  lack  neither  coal  nor  candle." 

Sii'  Oliver  gi'oped  his  way  to  a  joint-stool,  and  sat  down 
upon  it,  sick  and  white. 

"  This  is  a  judgment !  O,  a  great  stroke  !  "  he  sobbed, 
and  rattled  off  a  leash  of  prayers. 

Hatch  meanwhile  reverently  doffed  his  salet  and  knelt 
down. 

''Ay,  Bennet,"  said  the  priest,  somewhat  recovering, 
"and  what  may  this  be  ?     What  enemy  hath  done  this  ?  " 

"  Here,  Sir  OKver,  is  the  arrow.  See,  it  is  written  upon 
with  words,"  said  Dick. 

"  Nay,"  cried  the  priest,  "  this  is  a  foul  hearing  !  John 
Amend-All !  A  right  Lollai'dy  word.  And  black  of  hue, 
as  for  an  omen  !  Sirs,  this  knave  arrow  likes  me  not.  But 
it  importeth  rather  to  take  counsel.  Who  should  this 
be  ?  Bethink  you,  Bennet.  Of  so  many  black  ill-willers, 
which  should  he  be  that  doth  so  hardily  outface  us? 
Simnel?  I  do  much  question  it.  The  Walsinghams? 
Nay,  they  are  not  yet  so  broken  ;  they  still  think  to  have 
the  law  over  us,  when  times  change.  There  was  Simon 
Malmesbury,  too.     How  think  ye,  Bennet  ?  " 

"  What  think  ye,  sir,"  returned  Hatch,  "  of  Ellis 
Duckworth  ?  " 


IJ:  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"Xay,  Bennet,  never.  Nay,  not  he,"  said  the  priest 
"  There  cometh  never  any  rising,  Bennet,  from  below — so 
all  judicious  chroniclers  concord  in  their  opinion  ;  but  re- 
bellion travelleth  ever  downward  from  above  ;  and  when 
Dick,  Tom,  and  Harry  take  them  to  their  bills,  look  ever 
narrowly  to  see  what  lord  is  profited  thereby.  Now,  Sir 
Daniel,  having  once  more  joined  him  to  the  Queen's 
party,  is  in  ill  odour  with  the  Yorkist  lords.  Thence, 
Bennet,  comes  the  blow — by  what  procuring,  I  yet  seek  ; 
but  therein  lies  the  nerve  of  this  discomfiture." 

"An't  please  you,  Sir  Oliver,"  said  Bennet,  "the  axles 
are  so  hot  in  this  country  that  I  have  long  been  smelhng 
fire.  So  did  this  poor  sinner,  Appleyard.  And,  by  your 
leave,  men's  spirits  are  so  foully  inclined  to  all  of  us,  that 
it  needs  neither  York  nor  Lancaster  to  spur  them  on. 
Hear  my  plain  thoughts  :  You,  that  are  a  clerk,  and  Sir 
Daniel,  that  sails  on  any  wind,  ye  have  taken  many  men's 
goods,  and  beaten  and  hanged  not  a  few.  Y'  are  called  to 
count  for  this  ;  in  the  end,  I  wot  not  how,  ye  have  ever 
the  uppermost  at  law,  and  ye  think  all  patched.  But  give 
me  leave.  Sir  Oliver  :  the  man  that  ye  have  dispossessed 
and  beaten  is  but  the  angrier,  and  some  day,  when  the 
black  devil  is  by,  he  will  up  with  his  bow  and  clout  me  a 
yard  of  arrow  through  your  invrards." 

"  Nay,  Bennet,  y'  are  in  the  wrong.  Bennet,  ye  should 
be  glad  to  be  corrected,"  said  Sir  Oliver.  **Y'  are  a 
prater,  Bennet,  a  talker,  a  babbler  ;  your  mouth  is  wider 
than  your  two  ears.     Mend  it,  Bennet,  mend  it." 


JOHN    A2kIEND-ALL.  15 

'*  Nay,  I  say  no  more.  Have  it  as  ye  list,"  said  the  re- 
tainer. 

The  priest  now  rose  from  the  stool,  and  from  the  writ- 
ing-case that  hung  about  his  neck  took  forth  wax  and  a 
taper,  and  a  flint  and  steel.  With  these  he  sealed  up  the 
chest  and  the  cupboard  with  Sir  Daniel's  arms,  Hatch 
looking  on  disconsolate  ;  and  then  the  whole  party  pro- 
ceeded, somewhat  timorously,  to  sally  from  the  house  and 
get  to  horse. 

"'Tis  time  we  were  on  the  road,  Sir  Oliver,"  said  Hatch, 
as  he  held  the  priest's  stirrup  while  he  mounted. 

"Ay;  but,  Bennet,  things  are  changed,"  returned  the 
parson.  "There  is  now  no  Appleyard — rest  his  soul  I — 
to  keep  the  garrison.  I  shall  keep  you,  Bennet.  I  must 
have  a  good  man  to  rest  me  on  in  this  day  of  blacli  ar- 
rows. '  The  arrow  that  flieth  by  day,'  saith  the  evangel ; 
I  have  no  mind  of  the  context  ;  nay,  I  am  a  sluggard 
priest,  I  am  too  deep  in  men's  affairs.  Well,  let  us  ride 
forth.  Master  Hatch.  The  jackmen  should  be  at  the 
church  by  now." 

So  they  rode  for^-ard  down  the  road,  with  the  wind 
after  them,  blowing  the  tails  of  the  parson's  cloak  ;  and 
behind  them,  as  they  went,  clouds  began  to  arise  and  blot 
out  the  sinking  sun.  They  had  passed  three  of  the  scat- 
tered houses  that  make  up  Tunstall  hamlet,  when,  coming, 
to  a  turn,  they  saw  the  church  before  them.  Ten  or  a 
dozen  houses  clustered  immediately  round  it  ;  but  to  the 
back   the  churchyard  was  next  the  meadows.      At   the 


16  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

lych-gate,  near  a  score  of  men  were  gathered,  some  in  the 
saddle,  some  standing  by  their  horses'  heads.  They  were 
variously  armed  and  mounted  ;  some  with  spears,  some 
with  bills,  some  with  bows,  and  some  bestriding  plough- 
horses,  still  splashed  with  the  mire  of  the  furrow  ;  for 
these  were  the  very  dregs  of  the  country,  and  all  the 
better  men  and  the  fair  equipments  were  already  with 
Sir  Daniel  in  the  field. 

"We  have  not  done  amiss,  praised  be  the  cross  of 
Holy  wood  !  Sir  Daniel  will  be  right  well  content,"  ob- 
served the  priest,  inwardly  numbering  the  trooj). 

"  Who  goes  ?     Stand  !  if  ye  be  true  ! "  shouted  Bennet. 

A  man  was  seen  slipping  through  the  churchyard 
among  the  yews  ;  and  at  the  sound  of  this  summons  he 
discarded  all  concealment,  and  fau-ly  took  to  his  heels  for 
the  forest.  The  men  at  the  gate,  who  had  been  hitherto 
unaware  of  the  stranger's  presence,  woke  and  scattered. 
Those  who  had  dismounted  began  scrambling  into  the 
saddle  ;  the  rest  rode  in  pursuit ;  but  they  had  to  make 
the  circuit  of  the  consecrated  ground,  and  it  was  plain 
their  quarry  would  escapqJj^fi^Hatch,  roaring  an  oath, 
put  his  horse  at  the  hedge,  to  head  him  off ;  but  the  beast 
refused,  and  sent  his  rider  sprawling  in  the  dust.  And 
though  he  was  up  again  in  a  moment,  and  had  caught  the 
bridle,  the  time  had  gone  b}^  and  the  fugitive  had  gained 
too  great  a  lead  for  any  hope  of  capture. 

The  wisest  of  all  had  been  Dick  Shelton.  Instead  of 
starting  in  a  vain  j)ursuit,  he  had  whipped  his  cross-bow 


JOEISr   AMEXD-ALL.  IT 

from  his  back,  bent  it,  and  set  a  quarrel  to  the  string ; 
and  now,  when  the  others  had  desisted,  he  turned  to  Ben- 
net  and  asked  if  he  should  shoot. 

"  Shoot !  shoot ! "  cried  the  priest,  with  sanguinary 
violence. 

"  Cover  him,  Master  Dick,"  said  Bennet.  ''  Bring  me 
him  down  like  a  ripe  apple.' 

The  fugitive  was  now  within  but  a  few  leaps  of  safety  ; 
but  this  last  part  of  the  meadow  ran  very  steeply  uphill, 
and  the  man  ran  slower  in  proportion.  "What  with  the 
greyness  of  the  falling  night,  and  the  uneven  movements 
of  the  runner,  it  was  no  easy  aim  ;  and  as  Dick  levelled 
his  bow,  he  felt  a  kind  of  pity,  and  a  half  desire  that  he 
might  miss.     The  quarrel  sped. 

The  man  stumbled  and  fell,  and  a  great  cheer  arose 
from  Hatch  and  the  pursuers.  But  they  were  counting 
their  com  before  the  harvest.  The  man  fell  Hghtly  ;  he 
was  lightly  afoot  again,  turned  and  waved  his  cap  in  a 
bravado,  and  was  out  of  sight  next  moment  in  the  margin 
of  the  wood. 

''And  the  plague  go  with  him!"  cried  Bennet.  "He 
has  thieves'  heels  ;  he  can  run,  by  St.  Banbury  !  But  you 
touched  him.  Master  Shelton  ;  he  has  stolen  your  quarrel, 
may  he  never  have  good  I  gi'udge  him  less  ! " 

"  Nay,  but  what  made  he  by  the  church  ? "  asked  Sir 
Oliver.  "  I  am  shrewdly  afeared  there  has  been  mischief 
here.  Clipsby,  good  fellow,  get  ye  down  fi'om  your  horse, 
and  search  thoroughly  among  the  yews." 


IS  THE    ELACK    AKROW. 

Clipsbj  -was  gone  but  a  little  -while  ere  he  returned, 
carrying  a  paper. 

"  This  writing  \Yas  pinned  to  the  church  door,"  he  said, 
handing  it  to  the  parson.  "I  found  naught  else,  sir  par- 
son." 

"Now,  by  the  power  of  Mother  Church,"  cried  Sir 
Oliver,  *'but  this  runs  hard  on  sacrilege  !  For  the  king's 
good  pleasure,  or  the  lord  of  the  manor — well !  But 
that  every  run-the-hedge  in  a  green  jerkin  should  fasten 
papers  to  the  chancel  door — nay,  it  runs  hard  on  sacri- 
lege, hard ;  and  men  have  burned  for  matters  of  less 
weight.  But  what  have  we  here  ?  The  light  falls  apace. 
Good  blaster  Kichai'd,  y'  have  young  eyes.  Read  me,  I 
pray,  this  libel." 

Dick  Shelton  took  the  paper  in  his  hand  and  read  it 
aloud.  It  contained  some  lines  of  very  rugged  doggerel, 
hardly  even  rhyming,  -svritten  in  a  gross  character,  and 
most  uncouthly  spelt.  "With  the  spelling  somewhat  bet- 
tered, this  is  how  they  ran  : 

'  *  I  had  four  blak  arrows  under  my  belt, 
Four  for  the  greefs  that  I  have  felt, 
Four  for  the  uomber  of  ill  menne 
That  have  oppressid  me  now  and  then. 

One  is  gone  ;  one  is  wele  sped ; 
Old  Apulyaird  is  ded. 

One  is  for  Maister  Bennet  Hatch, 

That  burned  Grimstone,  walls  and  thatch. 

One  for  Sir  Oliver  Oates, 

That  cut  Sir  Harry  Sheltou's  throat 


JOHN    A^IEXD-ALL.  19 

Sir  Daniel,  ve  sliull  have  the  fourt ; 
"We  shall  think  it  fair  sport. 

Ye  shuU  each  hare  vour  ovm  part, 
A  blak  arrow  in  each  blak  heart. 
Get  ye  to  your  knees  for  to  pray : 
Ye  are  ded  theeves,  by  yea  and  nay  ! 

*•  Jox  Amend-All 

of  the  Green  Wool, 
And  his  jolly  fellaweship. 
"  Item,  we  have  mo  arrowes  and  goode  hempen  cord  for  otherea 
of  your  following." 

"  Xow,  well-a-day  for  charity  and  the  Christian  graces  I " 
cried  Sii'  Oliver,  lamentably.  '•'  Sirs,  this  is  an  ill  world, 
and  groweth  daily  worse.  I  will  swear  upon  the  cross  of 
Holywood  I  am  as  innocent  of  that  good  knight's  hm-t, 
whether  in  act  or  purpose,  as  the  babe  unchristened. 
Neither  was  his  thi'oat  cut  ;  for  therein  they  ai-e  again  in 
error,  as  there  still  live  credible  witnesses  to  show." 

"  It  boots  not,  sir  parson,"  said  Bennet.  "  Here  is  un- 
seasonable talk." 

"  Nay,  Master  Bennet,  not  so.  Keep  ye  in  your  due 
place,  good  Bennet,"  answered  the  priest.  '"'I  shall  make 
mine  innocence  appear.  I  will,  upon  no  consideration, 
lose  my  poor  Ufe  in  en-or.  I  take  all  men  to  witness  that 
I  am  cleai'  of  this  matter.  I  was  not  even  in  the  Moat 
House.  I  was  sent  of  an  errand  before  nine  upon  the 
clock  " 

'•'Sir  Oliver,"  said  Hatch,  interrupting,  "since  it  please 
you  not  to  stop  this  seiTaon..  I  will  take  other  means. 
Goffe,  sound  to  horse." 


20  THE    BLACK    AKKOW. 

And  while  the  tucket  was  sounding,  Bennet  moved  close 
to  the  bewildered  parson,  and  whispered  violently  in  his 
ear. 

Dick  Shelton  saw  the  priest's  eye  turned  upon  him  for 
an  instant  in  a  startled  glance.  He  had  some  cause  for 
thought ;  for  this  Sir  Harry  Shelton  was  his  own  natural 
father.  But  he  said  never  a  word,  and  kept  his  counte- 
nance unmoved. 

Hatch  and  Sir  Oliver  discussed  together  for  awhile  their 
altered  situation  ;  ten  men,  it  was  decided  between  them, 
should  be  reserved,  not  only  to  garrison  the  Moat  House, 
but  to  escort  the  priest  across  the  wood.  In  the  mean- 
time, as  Bennet  was  to  remain  behind,  the  command  of 
the  reinforcement  was  given  to  Master  Shelton.  Indeed, 
there  was  no  choice  ;  the  men  were  loutish  fellows,  dull 
and  unskilled  in  war,  while  Dick  was  not  only  popular, 
but  resolute  and  grave  beyond  his  age.  Although  his 
youth  had  been  spent  in  these  rough,  country  places,  the 
lad  had  been  well  taught  in  letters  by  Sii'  Oliver,  and 
Hatch  himself  had  shown  him  the  management  of  arms 
and  the  first  principles  of  command.  Bennet  had  always 
been  kind  and  helpful ;  he  was  one  of  those  who  are  cruel 
as  the  gi'ave  to  those  they  call  their  enemies,  but  ruggedly 
faithful  and  well  willing  to  their  friends ;  and  now,  while 
Sir  Oliver  entered  the  next  house  to  write,  in  his  swift, 
exquisite  penmanship,  a  memorandum  of  the  last  occur' 
rences  to  his  master,  Sir  Daniel  Brackley,  Bennet  came  up 
to  his  pupil  to  wish  him  God-speed  upon  his  enterprise. 


Jorix  a:mexd-all.  21 

*'Ye  must  go  the  long  way  about,  Master  Shelton/'  he 
said  ;  "  round  by  the  bridge,  for  your  life  !  Keep  a  sure 
man  fifty  paces  afore  you,  to  draw  shots  ;  and  go  softly 
till  y'  are  past  the  wood.  If  the  rogues  fall  upon  you, 
ride  for  't ;  ye  will  do  naught  by  standing.  And  keep  ever 
forward,  Master  Shelton  ;  turn  me  not  back  again,  an  ye 
love  your  life  ;  there  is  no  help  in  Tunstall,  mind  ye  that. 
And  now,  since  ye  go  to  the  great  wars  about  the  king, 
and  I  continue  to  dwell  here  in  extreme  jeopardy  of  my 
hfe,  and  the  saints  alone  can  certify  if  we  shall  meet  again 
below,  I  give  you  my  last  counsels  now  at  your  riding. 
Keep  an  eye  on  Sir  Daniel ;  he  is  unsure.  Put  not  your 
trust  in  the  jack-priest  ;  he  intendeth  not  amiss,  but  doth 
the  will  of  others  ;  it  is  a  hand-gun  for  Sir  Daniel !  Get 
you  good  lordship  where  ye  go  ;  make  you  strong  friends  ; 
look  to  it.  And  think  ever  a  pater-noster- while  on  Bennet 
Hatch.  There  are  worse  rogues  afoot  than  Bennet.  So, 
God-speed  !  " 

"And  Heaven  be  with  you,  Bennet!"  returned  Dick. 
"Ye  were  a  good  friend  to  me-ward,  and  so  I  shall  say  ever." 

**And,  look  ye,  master,"  added  Hatch,  with  a  certain 
embarrassment,  "if  this  Amend-All  should  get  a  shaft 
into  me,  ye  might,  mayhap,  lay  out  a  gold  mark  or  may- 
hap a  pound  for  my  poor  soul ;  for  it  is  like  to  go  stiff 
with  me  in  purgatory." 

"  Ye  shall  have  your  will  of  it,  Bennet,"  answered  Dick. 
"But,  what  cheer,  man  !  we  shall  meet  again,  where  ye 
shall  have  more  need  of  ale  than  masses." 


22  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"  The  saints  so  grant  it,  Master  Dick  !  "  returned  the 
other.  "  But  here  comes  Sir  Oliver.  An  he  were  as  quick 
with  the  long-bow  as  with  the  pen,  he  would  be  a  brave 
man-at-arms." 

Sir  Oliver  gave  Dick  a  sealed  packet,  with  this  super- 
scription :  "To  my  ryght  worchypful  master,  Sir  Daniel 
Brackley,  knyght,  be  thys  delyvered  in  haste." 

And  Dick,  putting  it  in  the  bosom  of  his  jacket,  ^ave 
the  word  and  set  forth  westward  up  the  village. 


BOOK  L—THE  TWO  LADS. 

CBLIPTEE   I. 

AT    THE    SIGN    OF    THE    SUX    IN    KETTLEY. 

Sir  Daniel  and  his  men  lay  in  and  about  Kettley  that 
night,  warmly  quartered  and  well  patrolled.  But  the 
Knight  of  Tunstall  was  one  who  never  rested  from  money- 
getting  ;  and  even  now,  when  he  was  on  the  brink  of  an 
adventui'e  which  should  make  or  mar  him,  he  was  up  an 
hour  after  midnight  to  squeeze  poor  neighbours.  He  was 
one  who  trafficked  greatly  in  disputed  inheritances  ;  it 
was  his  way  to  buy  out  the  most  unlikely  claimant,  and 
then,  by  the  favour  he  curried  with  great  lords  about  the 
king,  procure  unjust  decisions  in  his  favour  ;  or,  if  that 
was  too  roundabout,  to  seize  the  disputed  manor  by  force 
of  arms,  and  rely  on  his  influence  and  Sir  Ohver's  cunning 
in  the  law  to  hold  what  he  had  snatched.  Kettley  was 
one  such  place  ;  it  had  come  very  lately  into  his  clutches  ; 
he  still  met  with  opposition  from  the  tenants  ;  and  it  was 
to  overawe  discontent  that  he  had  led  his  troops  that  way. 

By  two  in  the  morning.  Sir  Daniel  sat  in  the  inn  room, 
close  by  the  fireside,  for  it  was  cold  at  that  hour  among 
the  fens  of  Kettley.     By  his  elbow  stood  a  potUe  of  spiced 


24  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

ale.  He  had  taken  off  his  visored  headpiece,  and  sat  with 
his  bald  head  and  thin,  dark  visage  resting  on  one  hand, 
wrapped  warmly  in  a  sanguine-coloured  cloak.  At  the 
lower  end  of  the  room  about  a  dozen  of  his  men  stood 
sentry  over  the  door  or  lay  asleep  on  benches ;  and  some- 
what nearer  hand,  a  young  lad,  apparently  of  twelve  or 
thirteen,  was  stretched  in  a  mantle  on  the  floor.  The  host 
of  the  Sun  stood  before  the  great  man. 

"Now,  mark  me,  mine  host,"  Sir  Daniel  said,  "follow 
but  mine  orders,  and  I  shall  be  your  good  lord  ever.  I 
must  have  good  men  for  head  boroughs,  and  I  will  have 
Adam-a-More  high  constable  ;  see  to  it  narrowly.  If 
other  men  be  chosen,  it  shall  avail  you  nothing  ;  rather  it 
shall  be  found  to  your  sore  cost.  For  those  that  have 
paid  rent  to  Walsingham  I  shall  take  good  measure — you 
among  the  rest,  mine  host." 

"Good  knight,"  said  the  host,  "I  will  swear  upon  the 
cross  of  Holywood  I  did  but  pay  to  Walsingham  upon 
compulsion.  Nay,  bully  knight,  I  love  not  the  rogue 
Walsinghams  ;  they  were  as  poor  as  thieves,  bully  knight. 
Give  me  a  great  lord  like  you.  Nay  ;  ask  me  among  the 
neighboui's,  I  am  stout  for  Brackley." 

"It  maybe,"  said  Sir  Daniel,  dryly.  "Ye  shall  then 
pay  twice." 

The  innkeeper  made  a  horrid  grimace  ;  but  this  was 
a  piece  of  bad  luck  that  might  readily  befall  a  tenant  in 
these  unruly  times,  and  he  was  perhaps  glad  to  make  his 
peace  so  easily. 


AT    THE    SIGN    OF    THE    SUX    IX    KETTLEY.  25 

**  Bring  up  yon  fellow,  Selden  !  "  cried  the  knight. 

And  one  of  his  retainers  led  up  a  poor,  cringing  old 
man,  as  pale  as  a  candle,  and  all  shaking  with  the  fen  fever. 

"  Sirrah,"  said  Sir  Daniel,  *'  your  name  ?  " 

"An't  please  your  worship,"  replied  the  man,  "my 
name  is  Condall — Condall  of  Shoreby,  at  your  good  wor- 
ship's pleasure." 

"I  have  heard  you  ill  reported  on,"  returned  the  knight. 
"  Ye  deal  in  treason,  rogue ;  ye  trudge  the  country  leas- 
ing ;  y'  are  heavily  suspicioned  of  the  death  of  severals. 
How,  fellow,  are  ye  so  bold?  But  I  will  bring  you 
down." 

"Eight  honourable  and  my  reverend  lord,"  the  man 
cried,  "here  is  some  hodge-podge,  saving  your  good 
presence.  I  am  but  a  poor  private  man,  and  have  hurt 
none." 

"  The  under-sheriff  did  report  of  you  most  vilely,"  said 
the  knight.  "  '  Seize  me,'  saith  he,  *  that  Tyndal  of 
Shoreby.'" 

"  Condall,  my  good  lord ;  Condall  is  my  poor  name," 
said  the  unfortunate. 

"  Condall  or  Tyndal,  it  is  all  one,"  replied  Sir  Daniel, 
coolly.  "  For,  by  my  sooth,  y'  are  here,  and  I  do  might- 
ily suspect  your  honesty.  If  ye  would  save  your  neck, 
wi'ite  me  swiftly  an  obHgation  for  twenty  pound." 

"For  twenty  pound,  my  good  lord!"  cried  CondalL 
"  Here  is  midsummer  madness !  My  whole  estate  amount* 
eth  not  to  seventy  shilhngs." 


20  THE    ELACK    ARROW. 

"Condall  or  Tvndal,"  returned  Sir  Daniel,  grinning,  "I 
^ill  run  my  peril  of  that  loss.  Write  me  down  twent}^, 
and  when  I  have  recovered  all  I  may,  I  will  be  good  lord 
to  you,  and  pardon  you  the  rest." 

"Alas  !  my  good  lord,  it  may  not  be  ;  I  have  no  skill  to 
"write,"  said  Condall. 

*' Well-a-day ! "  returned  the  knight.  "  Here,  then,  is  no 
remedy.  Yet  I  would  fain  have  spared  you,  Tyndal,  had 
my  conscience  suffered.  Selden,  take  me  this  old  shrew 
softly  to  the  nearest  elm,  and  hang  me  him  tenderly  by 
the  neck,  where  I  may  see  him  at  my  riding.  Fare  ye 
well,  good  Master  Condall,  dear  Master  Tyndal  ;  y'  are 
post-haste  for  Paradise  ;  fare  ye  then  well !  " 

''  Nay,  my  right  pleasant  lord,"  replied  Condall,  forcing 
an  obsequious  smile,  "an  ye  be  so  masterful,  as  doth  right 
well  become  you,  I  will  even,  with  all  my  poor  skill,  do 
your  good  bidding." 

"Friend,"  quoth  Sir  Daniel,  "ye  will  now  write  two 
score.  Go  to  !  y'  are  too  cunning  for  a  livelihood  of  sev- 
enty shillings.  Selden,  see  him  write  me  this  in  good 
form,  and  have  it  duly  witnessed." 

And  Sir  Daniel,  who  was  a  very  merry  knight,  none 
merrier  in  England,  took  a  drink  of  his  mulled  ale,  and 
lay  back,  smiHng. 

Meanwhile,  the  boy  upon  the  floor  began  to  stir,  and 
presently  sat  up  and  looked  about  him  with  a  scare. 

"  Hither,"  said  Sir  Daniel ;  and  as  the  other  rose  at  his 
command  and  came  slowly  towards  him,  he  leaned  back 


-^.^^ 


AT   THE    SIGN    OF    THE    SUX    IX   KETTLEY.  27 

and  laughed  outright.  "By  the  rood!"  he  cried,  "a 
stui'dj  boy !  " 

The  lad  flushed  crimson  ^ith  anger,  and  darted  a  look 
of  hate  out  of  his  dark  eyes.  Now  that  he  was  on  his  legs, 
it  was  more  difficult  to  make  certain  of  his  age.  His  face 
looked  somewhat  older  in  expression,  but  it  was  as  smooth 
as  a  young  child's  ;  and  in  bone  and  body  he  was  unusu- 
ally slender,  and  somewhat  awkward  of  gait. 

"  Ye  have  called  me,  Sir  Daniel,"  he  said.  "  Was  it  to 
laugh  at  my  poor  pHght  ?  " 

"  Xay,  now,  let  laugh,"  said  the  knight.  "  Good  shrew, 
let  laugh,  I  pray  you.  An  ye  could  see  yourself,  I  warrant 
ye  would  laugh  the  first." 

"Well,"  cried  the  lad,  flushing,  "ye  shall  answer  this 
when  ye  answer  for  the  other.     Laugh  while  yet  ye  may  !  " 

"  Nay,  now,  good  cousin,"  replied  Sir  Daniel,  with  some 
earnestness,  "  think  not  that  I  mock  at  you,  except  in 
mirth,  as  between  kinsfolk  and  singular  friends.  I  will 
make  you  a  marriage  of  a  thousand  pounds,  go  to  !  and 
cherish  you  exceedingly.  I  took  you,  indeed,  roughly,  as 
the  time  demanded  ;  but  fi'om  henceforth  I  shall  un- 
grudgingly maintain  and  cheerfully  serve  you.  Ye  shall 
be  Mrs.  Shelton — Lady  Shelton,  by  my  troth  I  for  the  lad 
promiseth  bravely.  Tut  !  ye  will  not  shy  for  honest 
laughter  ;  it  purgeth  melancholy.  They  ai-e  no  rogues 
who  laugh,  good  cousin.  Good  mine  host,  lay  me  a  meal 
now  for  my  cousin,  Master  John.  Sit  ye  down,  sweet> 
heart,  and  eat." 


28  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"Nay,"  said  Master  John,  "I  -will  break  no  bread 
Since  ye  force  me  to  this  sin,  I  will  fast  for  my  soul's  in- 
terest. But,  good  mine  host,  I  pray  you  of  courtesy  give 
me  a  cup  of  fair  water  ;  I  shall  be  much  beholden  to  your 
courtesy  indeed." 

*'  Ye  shall  have  a  dispensation,  go  to  !  "  cried  the  knighl. 
"  Shalt  be  well  shriven,  by  my  faith  !  Content  you,  then, 
and  eat." 

But  the  lad  was  obstinate,  drank  a  cup  of  water,  and, 
once  more  wrapping  himself  closely  in  his  mantle,  sat  in 
a  far  corner,  brooding. 

In  an  hour  or  two,  there  rose  a  stir  in  the  village  of 
sentries  challenging  and  the  clatter  of  arms  and  horses  ; 
and  then  a  troop  drew  up  by  the  inn  door,  and  Eichard 
Shelton,  splashed  with  mud,  presented  himself  upon  the 
threshold. 

"  Save  you.  Sir  Daniel,"  he  said. 

*'  How  !  Dickie  Shelton  !  "  cried  the  knight ;  and  at  the 
mention  of  Dick's  name  the  other  lad  looked  curiously 
across.     "  What  maketh  Bennet  Hatch  ?  " 

"Please  you,  sir  knight,  to  take  cognizance  of  this 
packet  from  Sir  Oliver,  wherein  are  all  things  fully 
stated,"  answered  Richard,  presenting  the  priest's  letter. 
*'  And  please  you  farther,  ye  were  best  make  all  speed  to 
Kisingham  ;  for  on  the  way  hither  we  encountered  one 
riding  furiously  with  letters,  and  by  his  report,  my  Lord 
of  Risingham  was  sore  bested,  and  lacked  exceedingly 
your  presence." 


AT    THE    SIGX    OF    THE    SUX    IN    KETTLEY.  29 

"  How  say  you  ?  Sore  bested  ?  "  returned  the  knight. 
"  Nay,  then,  we  will  make  speed  sitting  down,  good  Rich- 
ard. As  the  world  goes  in  this  poor  realm  of  England, 
he  that  rides  softliest  rides  surest.  Delay,  they  say,  be- 
getteth  peril ;  but  it  is  rather  this  itch  of  doing  that  un- 
does men  ;  mark  it,  Dick.  But  let  me  see,  first,  what  cattle 
ye  have  brought.     Selden,  a  lin^here  at  the  door  !  " 

And  Sir  Daniel  strode  forth  into  the  village  street,  and, 
by  the  red  glow  of  a  torch,  inspected  his  new  troops.  He 
was  an  unpopular  neighbour  and  an  unpopular  master  ; 
but  as  a  leader  in  war  he  was  well-beloved  by  those  who 
rode  behind  his  pennant.  His  dash,  his  proved  courage, 
his  forethought  for  the  soldiers'  comfort,  even  his  rough 
gibes,  were  all  to  the  taste  of  the  bold  blades  in  jack  and 
salet. 

"Nay,  by  the  rood!"  he  cried,  "what  poor  dogs  are 
these  ?  Here  be  some  as  crooked  as  a  bow,  and  some  as ' 
lean  as  a  spear.  Fiiends,  ye  shall  ride  in  the  front  of  the 
battle  ;  I  can  spare  you,  friends.  Mark  me  this  old  vil- 
lain on  the  piebald  !  A  two-year  mutton  riding  on  a  hog 
would  look  more  soldierly  !  Ha !  Clipsby,  ai'e  ye  there, 
old  rat  ?  Y'  are  a  man  I  could  lose  with  a  good  heart ;  ye 
shall  go  in  front  of  all,  with  a  bull's-eye  painted  on  your 
jack,  to  be  the  better  butt  for  archery  ;  sirrah,  ye  shall 
show  me  the  way." 

"  I  will  show  you  any  way,  Sir  Daniel,  but  the  way  to 
change  sides,"  returned  Clipsby,  sturdily. 

Sir  Daniel  laughed  a  guffaw. 


30  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"  Why,  well  said  !  "  he  cried.  "Hast  a  shrewd  tongue 
in  thy  mouth,  go  to  !  I  will  forgive  you  for  that  merry- 
word.     Selden,  see  them  fed,  both  man  and  brute." 

The  knight  re-entered  the  inn. 

"Now,  friend  Dick,"  he  said,  "fall  to.  Here  is  good 
ale  and  bacon.     Eat,  while  that  I  read." 

Sir  Daniel  opened  the  packet,  and  as  he  read  his  brow 
darkened.  When  he  had  done  he  sat  a  little,  musing. 
Then  he  looked  sharply  at  his  ward. 

"  Dick,"  said  he,  "y'  have  seen  this  penny  rhyme?  " 

The  lad  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"  It  bears  your  father's  name,"  continued  the  knight ; 
"  and  our  poor  shrew  of  a  parson  is,  by  some  mad  soul, 
accused  of  slaying  him." 

"  He  did  most  eagerly  deny  it,"  answered  Dick. 

"He  did?"  cried  the  knight,  very  sharply.  "Heed 
him  not.  He  has  a  loose  tongue  ;  he  babbles  like  a  jack- 
sparrow.  Some  day,  when  I  may  find  the  leisure,  Dick,  I 
will  myself  more  fully  inform  you  of  these  matters. 
There  was  one  Duckworth  shrewdly  blamed  for  it ;  but 
the  times  were  troubled,  and  there  was  no  justice  to  be  got." 

"  It  befell  at  the  Moat  House  ?  "  Dick  ventui-ed,  with  a 
beating  at  his  heart. 

"  It  befell  between  the  Moat  House  and  Holy  wood,"  re- 
plied Sir  Daniel,  calmly ;  but  he  shot  a  covert  glance, 
black  with  suspicion,  at  Dick's  face.  "  And  now,"  added^ 
the  knight,  "  speed  you  with  your  meal ;  ye  shall  return 
to  Tunstall  with  a  line  from  me." 


AT   THE    SIGN    OF    THE    SUN    IN    KETTLEY.  31 

Dick's  face  fell  sorely. 

"Prithee,  Sir  Daniel,"  he  cried,  "send  one  of  the  vil- 
lains !  I  beseech  you  let  me  to  the  battle.  I  can  strike  a 
stroke,  I  promise  you." 

"I  misdoubt  it  not,"  replied  Sir  Daniel,  sitting  down  to 
write.  "  But  here,  Dick,  is  no  honoui'  to  be  won.  I  lie 
in  Kettley  till  I  have  sure  tidings  of  the  war,  and  then 
ride  to  join  me  with  the  conqueror.  Cry  not  on  cow- 
ardice ;  it  is  but  wisdom,  Dick  ;  for  this  poor  realm  so 
tosseth  with  rebellion,  and  the  king's  name  and  custody 
so  changeth  hands,  that  no  man  may  be  certain  of  the 
morrow.  Toss-pot  and  Shuttle-wit  run  in,  but  my  Lord 
Good-Counsel  sits  o'  one  side,  waiting." 

With  that,  Sir  Daniel,  turning  his  back  to  Dick,  and 
quite  at  the  farther  end  of  the  long  table,  began  to  write 
his  letter,  with  his  mouth  on  one  side,  for  this  business  of 
the  Black  Arrow  stuck  sorely  in  his  throat. 

Meanwhile,  young  Shelton  was  going  on  heartily 
enough  with  his  breakfast,  when  he  felt  a  touch  upon  his 
arm,  and  a  very  soft  voice  whispering  in  his  ear. 

*'  Make  not  a  sign,  I  do  beseech  you,"  said  the  voice, 
"  but  of  your  charity  tell  me  the  straight  way  to  Holy- 
wood.  Beseech  you,  now,  good  boy,  comfort  a  poor  soul 
in  peril  and  extreme  distress,  and  set  me  so  far  forth  upon 
the  way  to  my  repose." 

"Take  the  path  by  the  windmill,"  answered  Dick,  in 
the  same  tone  ;  "it  will  bring  you  to  Till  FeiTy  ;  there 
inquire  again." 


32  '  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

And  without  turning  his  head,  he  fell  again  to  eating. 
But  with  the  tail  of  his  eye  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
young  lad  called  Master  John  stealthily  creeping  from  the 
room. 

"  Why,"  thought  Dick,  "he  is  as  young  as  I.  'Good 
boy '  doth  he  call  me  ?  An  I  had  known,  I  should  have 
seen  the  varlet  hanged  ere  I  had  told  him.  Well,  if  he 
goes  through  the  fen,  I  may  come  up  with  him  and  pull 
his  ears." 

Half  an  hour  later,  Sir  Daniel  gave  Dick  the  letter,  and 
bade  him  speed  to  the  Moat  House.  And,  again,  some 
half  an  hour  after  Dick's  departure,  a  messenger  came,  in 
hot  haste,  from  my  Lord  of  Risingham. 

"  Sir  Daniel,"  the  messenger  said,  "  ye  lose  great 
honour,  by  my  sooth !  The  fight  began  again  this  morn- 
ing ere  the  dawn,  and  we  have  beaten  their  van  and  scat- 
tered their  right  wing.  Only  the  main  battle  standeth 
fast.  An  we  had  your  fresh  men,  we  should  tilt  you  them 
all  into  the  river.  What,  sir  knight !  Will  ye  be  the 
last  ?    It  stands  not  with  your  good  credit." 

"Nay,"  cried  the  knight,  "I  was  but  now  upon  the 
march.  Selden,  sound  me  the  tucket.  Sir,  I  am  with 
you  on  the  instant.  It  is  not  two  hours  since  the  more 
part  of  my  command  came  in,  sir  messenger.  What 
would  ye  have  ?  Spurring  is  good  meat,  but  yet  it  killed 
the  charger.     Bustle,  boys !  " 

By  this  time  the  tucket  was  sounding  cheerily  in  the 
morning,  and   from   all   sides   Sir  Daniel's  men  poured 


AT    THE    SIGN    OF    THE    SU^'    IX    KETTLEY.  33 

into  the  main  street  and  formed  before  the  inn.  They 
had  slept  upon  their  ai'ms,  with  chargers  saddled,  and  in 
ten  minutes  five-score  men-at-arms  and  archers,  cleanly 
equij^ped  and  briskly  disciplined,  stood  ranked  and  ready. 
The  chief  part  were  in  Sii-  Daniel's  livery,  murrey  and  blue, 
which  gave  the  gi-eater  show  to  theii'  array.  The  best 
armed  rode  first ;  and  away  out  of  sight,  at  the  tail  of  the 
column,  came  the  soriy  reinforcement  of  the  night  before. 
Sb  Daniel  looked  with  pride  along  the  line. 

"Here  be  the  lads  to  serve  you  in  a  pinch,"  he  said. 

"They  ai'e  pretty  men,  indeed,"  rephed  the  messenger. 
"It  but  augments  my  soitow  that  ye  had  not  marched 
the  earlier." 

"  Well,"  said  the  knight,  "  what  would  ye  ?  The  begin- 
ning of  a  feast  and  the  end  of  a  fray,  sir  messenger  ; " 
and  he  mounted  into  his  saddle.  "  Why  I  how  now  I ""  he 
cried.  '•'  John  !  Joanna  !  Nay,  by  the  sacred  rood  ! 
where  is  she  ?     Host,  where  is  that  girl  ?  " 

"  Girl,  Sir  Daniel  ?  "  cried  the  landlord.  "  Kay,  sir,  I 
saw  no  girl." 

"  Boy,  then,  dotard  !  "  cried  the  knight.  "  Could  ye  not 
see  it  was  a  wench  ?  She  in  the  murrey-coloured  mantle — 
she  that  broke  her  fast  with  water,  rogTie— where  is 
she  ?  " 

•'•'  Xay,  the  saints  bless  us  I  Master  John,  ye  called  him," 
said  the  host.  "Well,  I  thought  none  evil.  He  is  gone. 
I  saw  him — her — I  saw  her  in  the  stable  a  good  hour 
agone  ;  'a  was  saddhng  a  gi-ey  horse." 


34:  THE    BLACK    ARKOW. 

"Now,  by  the  rood ! "  cried  Sir  Daniel,  "  the  wench  waa 
worth  five  hundred  pound  to  me  and  more." 

"Sir  knight,"  observed  the  messenger,  with  bitterness, 
**  while  that  ye  are  here,  roaring  for  five  hundred  pounds, 
the  realm  of  England  is  elsewhere  being  lost  and  won." 

"It  is  well  said,"  replied  Sir  Daniel.  "Selden,  fall  me 
out  with  six  cross-bowmen ;  hunt  me  her  down.  I  care 
not  what  it  cost ;  but,  at  my  returning,  let  me  find  her  at 
the  Moat  House.  Be  it  upon  your  head.  And  now,  sir 
messenger,  we  march." 

And  the  troop  broke  into  a  good  trot,  and  Selden  and 
his  six  men  were  left  behind  upon  the  street  of  Kettley, 
with  the  staring  villagers. 


CHAPTER  n. 


IN    THE    FEN. 


It  was  near  six  in  the  May  morning  when  Dick  began 
to  ride  down  into  the  fen  upon  his  homeward  way.  The 
sky  was  all  blue  ;  the  jolly  wind  blew  loud  and  steady  ; 
the  windmill-sails  were  spinning  ;  and  the  willows  over 
all  the  fen  rippling  and  whitening  like  a  field  of  corn.  He 
had  been  all  night  in  the  saddle,  but  his  heart  was  good 
and  his  body  sound,  and  he  rode  right  men-ily. 

The  path  went  down  and  down  into  the  marsh,  till  he 
lost  sight  of  all  the  neighbouring  landmarks  but  Kettley 


IX    THE    FEN.  35 

Windmill  on  the  knoll  behind  him,  and  the  extreme  top  of 
Tuustall  Forest  far  before.  On  either  hand  there  were 
gi'eat  fields  of  blowing  reeds  and  willows,  pools  of  water 
shaking  in  the  wind,  and  treacherous  bogs,  as  green  aa 
emerald,  to  tempt  and  to  betray  the  traveller.  The  path 
lay  almost  straight  through  the  morass.  It  was  already 
very  ancient ;  its  foundation  had  been  laid  by  Roman  sol- 
diery ;  in  the  lapse  of  ages  much  of  it  had  sunk,  and  every 
here  and  there,  for  a  few  hundred  yards,  it  lay  submerged 
below  the  stagnant  waters  of  the  fen. 

About  a  mile  fi'om  Kettley,  Dick  came  to  one  such 
break  in  the  plain  line  of  causeway,  where  the  reeds  and 
willows  grew  dispersedly  like  little  islands  and  confused 
the  eye.  The  gap,  besides,  was  more  than  usually  long  ; 
it  was  a  place  where  any  stranger  might  come  readily  to 
mischief  ;  and  Dick  bethought  him,  with  something  like  a 
pang,  of  the  lad  whom  he  had  so  imperfectly  directed. 
As  for  himself,  one  look  backward  to  where  the  windmill 
sails  were  tui'ning  black  against  the  blue  of  heaven — one 
look  forward  to  the  high  ground  of  Tunstall  Forest,  and 
he  was  sufficiently  directed  and  held  straight  on,  the  wa- 
ter washing  to  his  horse's  knees,  as  safe  as  on  a  highway. 

Half-way  across,  and  when  he  had  already  sighted  the 
path  rising  high  and  dry  upon  the  farther  side,  he  was 
aware  of  a  great  splashing  on  his  right,  and  saw  a  grey 
horse,  sunk  to  its  belly  in  the  mud,  and  still  spasmodic- 
ally struggling.  Instantly,  as  though  it  had  divined  the 
neighbourhood  of  help,  the  poor  beast  began  to  neigh  most 


36  THE    BLACK    AKKOW. 

piercingly.  It  rolled,  meanwhile,  a  bloodshot  eye,  insane 
with  terror ;  and  as  it  sprawled  wallowing  in  the  quag, 
clouds  of  stinging  insects  rose  and  buzzed  about  it  in  the 
air. 

"Alack!"  thought  Dick,  "can  the  poor  lad  have  per- 
ished ?  There  is  his  horse,  for  certain — a  brave  grey ! 
Nay,  comrade,  if  thou  criest  to  me  so  piteously,  I  will  do 
all  man  can  to  help  thee.  Shalt  not  lie  there  to  drown 
by  inches ! " 

And  he  made  ready  his  crossbow,  and  put  a  quarrel 
through  the  creature's  head. 

Dick  rode  on  after  this  act  of  rugged  mercy,  somewhat 
sobered  iu  si^irit,  and  looking  closely  about  him  for  any 
sign  of  his  less  happy  predecessor  in  the  way. 

"  I  Avould  I  had  dared  to  tell  him  further,"  he  thought ; 
"for  I  fear  he  has  miscarried  in  the  slough." 

And  jast  as  he  was  so  thinking,  a  voice  cried  upon  his 
name  from  the  causeway  side,  and,  looking  over  his  shoul- 
der, he  saw  the  lad's  face  peering  from  a  clump  of  reeds. 

"  Ai^e  ye  there  ?  "  he  said,  reining  in.  "  Ye  lay  so  close 
among  the  reeds  that  I  had  passed  you  by.  I  saw  your 
horse  bemired,  and  put  him  from  his  agony  ;  which,  by 
my  sooth !  an  ye  had  been  a  more  merciful  rider,  ye  had 
done  yourself.  But  come  forth  out  of  your  hiding. 
Here  be  none  to  trouble  you." 

"Nay,  good  boy,  I  have  no  arms,  nor  skill  to  use  them 
if  I  had,"  repHed  the  other,  stepping  forth  upon  the  path- 
way. 


IN    THE    FEX.  37 

*'  Why  call  me  '  boy  '  ?  "  cried  Dick.  "  T  are  not,  I 
trow,  the  elder  of  us  twain." 

"Good  Master  Shelton,"  said  the  other,  "prithee  for- 
give me.  I  have  none  the  least  intention  to  offend. 
Eather  I  would  in  every  way  beseech  your  gentleness  and 
favour,  for  I  am  now  worse  bested  than  ever,  having  lost 
my  way,  my  cloak,  and  my  poor  horse.  To  have  a  riding- 
rod  and  spurs,  and  never  a  horse  to  sit  upon !  And  be- 
fore all,"  he  added,  looking  ruefully  upon  his  clothes — 
"before  all,  to  be  so  son-ily  besmirched  !  " 

"  Tut  I "  cried  Dick.  "  Would  ye  mind  a  ducking  ? 
Blood  of  wound  or  dust  of  travel — that's  a  man's  adorn- 
ment." 

"Nay,  then,  I  like  him  better  plain,"  observed  the  lad. 
"  But,  prithee,  how  shall  I  do  ?  Prithee,  good  Master 
Richard;  help  me  with  your  good  counsel  If  I  come  not 
safe  to  Holywood,  I  am  undone." 

"Nay,"  said  Dick,  dismounting,  "I  vnH  give  more  than 
counsel.  Take  my  horse,  and  I  will  rim  awhile,  and  when 
I  am  weaiy  we  shall  change  again,  that  so,  riding  and 
i-unning,  both  may  go  the  speedier." 

So  the  change  was  made,  and  they  went  forward  as 
briskly  as  they  durst  on  the  uneven  causeway,  Dick  with 
his  hand  upon  the  other's  knee. 

"How  call  ye  your  name?"  asked  Dick. 

"  Call  me  John  Matcham,"  replied  the  lad. 

"  And  what  make  ye  to  Holywood?  "  Dick  continued. 

"I  seek  sanctuai*y  from  a  man  that  would  oppress  me,* 


38  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

was  the  answer.  "  The  good  Abbot  of  Holy  wood  is  a 
strong  pillar  to  the  weak." 

"  And  how  came  ye  with  Sir  Daniel,  Master  Matcham  ?  " 
pursued  Dick. 

"Nay,"  cried  the  other,  ''by  the  abuse  of  force!  He 
hath  taken  me  by  violence  from  my  own  place  ;  dressed 
me  in  these  weeds ;  ridden  with  me  till  my  heart  was 
sick  ;  gibed  me  till  I  could  'a'  wept ;  and  when  certain  of 
my  friends  pursued,  thinking  to  have  me  back,  claps  me 
in  the  rear  to  stand  their  shot !  I  was  even  grazed  in  the 
right  foot,  and  walk  but  lamely.  Nay,  there  shall  come  a 
day  between  us ;  he  shall  smart  for  all !  " 

"  AYould  ye  shoot  at  the  moon  with  a  hand-gun  ?  "  said 
Dick.  "  'Tis  a  valiant  knight,  and  hath  a  hand  of  iron. 
An  he  guessed  I  had  made  or  meddled  with  your  flight, 
it  would  go  sore  with  me." 

"Ay,  poor  boy,"  returned  the  other,  "  y'  are  his  ward, 
I  know  it.  By  the  same  token,  so  am  I,  or  so  he  saith  ; 
or  else  he  hath  bought  my  marriage — I  wot  not  rightly 
which ;  but  it  is  some  handle  to  oppress  me  by." 

*  *  Boy  again  !  "  said  Dick. 

"  Nay,  then,  shall  I  call  you  girl,  good  Kichard  ?  "  asked 
Matcham. 

"Never  a  girl  for  me,"  returned  Dick.  "I  do  abjure 
the  crew  of  them  !  " 

"  Ye  speak  boyishly,"  said  the  other.  "  Ye  think  more 
of  them  than  ye  pretend." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Dick,  stoutly.     "  They  come  not  in  my 


IN    THK    FEX.  39 

mind.  A  plague  of  them,  say  1 1  Give  me  ixD  hunt  and 
to  fight  and  to  feast,  and  to  live  with  jolly  foresters.  I 
never  heard  of  a  maid  yet  that  was  for  any  service,  save 
one  only  ;  and  she,  poor  shrew,  was  burned  for  a  witch 
and  the  wearing  of  men's  clothes  in  spite  of  nature." 

Master  Matcham  crossed  himself  with  fervour,  and  ap- 
peared to  pray. 

"  What  make  ye  ?  "  Dick  inquired. 

"I  pray  for  her  spirit,"  answered  the  other,  with  a 
somewhat  troubled  voice. 

"  For  a  witch's  spiiit  ?  "  Dick  cried.  "But  pray  for  her, 
an  ye  list  ;  she  was  the  best  wench  in  Europe,  was  this 
Joan  of  Ai'c.  Old  Appleyard  the  archer  ran  from  her,  he 
said,  as  if  she  had  been  Mahoun.  Nay,  she  was  a  brave 
wench." 

"  Well,  but,  good  Master  Eichard,"  resumed  Matcham, 
"an  ye  like  maids  so  little,  y'  are  no  true  natural  man  ; 
for  God  made  them  twain  by  intention,  and  brought  true 
love  into  the  world,  to  be  man's  hope  and  woman's  com- 
fort." 

*'  Faugh  !  "  said  Dick.  "  Y'  are  a  milk-sopping  baby,  so 
to  harp  on  women.  An  ye  think  I  be  no  true  man,  get 
down  upon  the  path,  and  whether  at  fists,  backsword, 
or  bow  and  arrow,  I  will  prove  my  manhood  on  your 
body." 

"  Xay,  I  am  no  fighter,"  said  Matcham,   eagerly.     "  I 

mean  no  tittle  of  offence.     I  meant  but  pleasantry.     And 

nen,  it  is  because  I  heard  ye  were  to  marry." 


40  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"I  to  marry  !  "  Dick  exclairaed.  ''Well,  it  is  the  first 
I  hear  of  it.     And  with  whom  was  I  to  marry  ?  " 

"  One  Joan  Sedley,"  replied  Matcham,  colouring.  "  It 
was  Sir  Daniel's  doing  ;  he  hath  money  to  gain  upon  both 
sides  ;  and,  indeed,  I  have  heard  the  poor  wench  bemoan- 
ing herself  pitifully  of  the  match.  It  seems  she  is  of  your 
mind,  or  else  distasted  to  the  bridegroom." 

"Well!  marriage  is  like  death,  it  comes  to  all,"  said 
Dick,  with  resignation.  "  And  she  bemoaned  herseK  ?  I 
pray  ye  now,  see  there  how  shuttle-witted  are  these  girls  : 
to  bemoan  herself  before  that  she  had  seen  me  !  Do  I  be- 
moan myself  ?  Not  I.  An  I  be  to  marry,  I  will  marry 
dry-eyed  !  But  if  ye  know  her,  prithee,  of  what  favour  is 
she  ?   fair  or  foul  ?     And  is  she  shrewish  or  pleasant  ?  " 

"Nay,  what  matters  it?  "  said  Matcham.  "An  y'  are  to 
marry,  ye  can  but  marry.  What  matters  foul  or  fair  ? 
These  be  but  toys.  Y'  are  no  milksop,  Master  Eichard  ; 
ye  will  wed  with  dry  eyes,  anyhow." 

"It  is  well  said,"  replied  Shelton.     "Little  I  reck." 

"Your  lady  wife  is  like  to  have  a  pleasant  lord,"  said 
Matcham. 

"  She  shall  have  the  lord  Heaven  made  her  for,"  returned 
Dick.     "I  trow  there  be  worse  as  well  as  better." 

"  Ah,  the  poor  wench  !  "  cried  the  other. 

"And  w4iy  so  poor?"  asked  Dick. 

"  To  wed  a  man  of  wood,"  replied  his  companion.  "  0 
me,  for  a  wooden  husband  !  " 

"I  think  I  be  a  man  of  wood,  indeed,"  said  Dick,  "to 


IN    THE    FEX.  ,  41 

trudge  afoot  the  while  you  ride  my  horse  ;  but  it  is  good 
wood,  I  trow." 

"  Good  Dick,  forgive  me/'  cried  the  other.  "Nay,  y'  are 
the  best  heart  in  England  ;  I  but  laughed.  Forgive  me 
now,  sweet  Dick." 

"Nay,  no  fool  words,"  returned  Dick,  a  httle  embar- 
rassed by  his  companion's  warmth.  "  No  harm  is  done. 
I  am  not  touchy,  praise  the  saints." 

And  at  that  moment  the  wind,  which  was  blowing 
straight  behind ,  them  as  they  went,  brought  them  the 
rough  flourish  of  Sii*  Daniel's  trumpeter." 

"Hark  ! '"  said  Dick,  "the  tucket  soundeth."' 

"  Ay,"  said  Matcham,  "  they  have  found  my  flight,  and 
now  I  am  unhorsed  I  "  and  he  became  pale  as  death. 

"Nay,  what  cheer  !  "  returned  Dick.  "Y'have  along 
start,  and  we  are  near  the  ferry.  And  it  is  I,  methinks, 
that  am  unhorsed," 

"  Alack,  I  shall  be  taken  !  "  cried  the  fugitive.  "  Dick, 
kind  Dick,  beseech  ye  help  me  but  a  little  !  " 

"  ^liy,  now,  what  aileth  thee  ?  "  said  Dick.  "  Methinks 
I  help  you  very  patently.  But  my  heart  is  sorry  for  so 
spiritless  a  feUow  I  And  see  ye  here,  John  Matcham — 
sith  John  Matcham  is  your  name — I,  Richard  Shelton, 
tide  what  betideth,  come  what  may,  will  see  you  safe  in 
Holywood.  The  saints  so  do  to  me  again  if  I  default  you. 
Come,  pick  me  up  a  good  heaii,  Sir  White-face.  The  way 
betters  here  ;  spui'  me  the  horse.  Go  faster !  faster ! 
Nay,  mind  not  for  me  ;  I  can  run  like  a  deer." 


42  THY.    BLACK    ARROW. 

So,  with  the  horse  trotting  hard,  and  Dick  running 
easily  alongside,  they  crossed  the  remainder  of  the  fen, 
and  canae  out  upon  the  banks  of  the  river  by  the  ferry- 
man's hut. 


CHAPTER  m. 

THE     F  E  X      FERRY. 


The  river  Till  was  a  wide,  sluggish,  clayey  water,  oozing 
out  of  fens,  and  in  this  part  of  its  course  it  strained  among 
some  score  of  willow-covered,  marshy  islets. 

It  was  a  dingy  stream  ;  but  upon  this  bright,  spirited 
morning  everything  was  become  beautiful.  The  wind 
and  the  martens  broke  it  up  into  innumerable  dimples  ; 
and  the  reflection  of  the  sky  was  scattered  over  all  the 
surface  in  crumbs  of  smiling  blue. 

A  creek  ran  up  to  meet  the  path,  and  close  under  the 
bank  the  ferryman's  hut  lay  snugly.  It  was  of  wattle  and 
clay,  and  the  grass  grew  green  upon  the  roof. 

Dick  went  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  Within,  upon 
a  foul  old  russet  cloak,  the  ferryman  lay  stretched  and 
shivering  ;  a  great  hulk  of  a  man,  but  lean  and  shaken  by 
the  country  fever. 

*'Hey,  Master  Shelton,"  he  said,  "be  ye  for  the  ferry? 
ni  times,  ill  times  !  Look  to  yourself.  There  is  a  fellow- 
ship abroad.  Ye  were  better  turn  round  on  your  two 
heels  and  try  the  bridge." 


THE    FEN    FERRY.  43 

"Nay  ;  time's  in  the  saddle,"  answered  Dick.  "Time 
will  hde,  Hugh  Ferryman.     I  am  hot  in  haste." 

"A  wilful  man  !  "'  retm-ned  the  ferryman,  rising.  "An 
ye  win  safe  to  the  lEoat  House,  y"  have  done  lucky  ;  but 
I  say  no  more."  And  then  catching  sight  of  Matcham, 
"  Who  be  this  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  paused,  blinking,  on  the 
threshold  of  his  cabin. 

"It  is  my  kinsman,  Master  Matcham,"  answered  Dick. 

"Give  ye  good  day,  good  ferryman,"  said  Matcham,  who 
had  dismounted,  and  now  came  forward,  leading  the 
horse.  "'  Launch  me  your  boat,  I  prithee  ;  we  are  sore  in 
haste." 

The  gaunt  ferryman  continued  staring. 

'•  By  the  mass  I  "  he  cned  at  length,  aud  laughed  with 
ojDen  throat. 

Matcham  coloured  to  his  neck  and  winced  ;  and  Dick, 
with  an  angry  countenance,  put  his  hand  on  the  lout's 
shoulder. 

"  How  now,  churl ! "'  he  cried.  "Fall  to  thy  business, 
and  leave  mocking  thy  betters." 

Hugh  Ferryman  grumbhngly  undid  his  boat,  and  shoved 
it  a  little  forth  into  the  deep  water.  Then  Dick  led  in  the 
horse,  and  Matcham  followed. 

"  Ye  be  mortal  small  made,  master,"  said  Hugh,  with  a 
wide  giin  ;  "  something  o'  the  wrong  model,  belike.  Nay, 
Master  Shelton,  I  am  for  you,"  he  added,  getting  to  his 
u:.rs.  "  A  cat  may  look  at  a  king.  I  did  but  take  a  shot 
of  the  eye  at  Master  Matcham." 


/-^ 


4:4  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"Sirrah,  no  more  words,"  said  Dick.  "Bend  me  your 
back." 

They  were  by  that  time  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  and 
the  view  opened  up  and  down  the  river.  Everywhere  it 
was  enclosed  with  islands.  Clay  banks  were  falling  in, 
willows  nodding,  reeds  waving,  martens  dipping  and 
piping.  There  was  no  sign  of  man  in  the  labyrinth  of 
waters. 

"  My  master,"  said  the  ferryman,  keeping  the  boat  steady 
with  one  oar,  "I  have  a  shrew  guess  that  John-a-Fenne  is 
on  the  island.  He  bears  me  a  black  grudge  to  all  Sir 
Daniel's.  How  if  I  turned  me  up  stream  and  landed  you 
an  arrow-flight  above  the  path  ?  Ye  were  best  not  meddle 
with  John  Fenne." 

"  How,  then  ?  is  he  of  this  company  ?  "  asked  Dick. 

"  Nay,  mum  is  the  word,"  said  Hugh.  "But  I  would  go 
up  water,  Dick.  How  if  Master  Matcham  came  by  an 
arrow  ?  "  and  he  laughed  again. 

"Be  it  so,  Hugh,"  answered  Dick. 

"Look  ye,  then,"  pursued  Hugh.  "  Sith  it  shall  so  be, 
unsling  me  your  cross-bow — so :  now  make  it  ready — good  ; 
place  me  a  quarrel.  Ay,  keep  it  so,  and  look  upon  me 
grimly." 

"  What  meaneth  this  ?  "  asked  Dick. 

"Why,  my  master,  if  I  steal  you  across,  it  must  be  un- 
der force  or  fear,"  replied  the  ferryman;  "for  else,  if 
John  Fenne  got  wind  of  it,  he  were  like  to  prove  my  most 
distressful  neighbour." 


THE    FEN    FERRY.  45 

"Do  these  churls  ride  so  roughly?"  Dick  inquired. 
''Do  they  command  Sir  Daniel's  own  ferry?" 

"  Xay,"  whispered  the  fenyman,  winking.  "  Mark  me  ! 
Sir  Daniel  shall  down.  His  time  is  out.  He  shall  down. 
Mum  I  ■'     And  he  bent  over  his  oars. 

They  pulled  a  long  way  up  the  river,  turned  the  tail  of 
an  island,  and  came  softly  down  a  narrow  channel  next  the 
opposite  bank.     Then  Hugh  held  water  in  mid-stream. 

"I  must  land  you  here  among  the  willows,"  he  said. 

"Here  is  no  path  but  willow  swamps  and  quagmii'es," 
answered  Dick. 

"Master  Shelton,"  replied  Hugh,  ^'I  dare  not  take  ye 
nearer  down,  for  your  own  sake  now.  He  watcheth  me 
the  feny,  lying  on  his  bow.  All  that  go  by  and  owe  Sir 
Daniel  goodwill,  he  shooteth  down  like  rabbits.  I  heard 
him  swear  it  by  the  rood.  An  I  had  not  known  you  of 
old  days — ay,  and  from  so  high  upward — I  would  'a'  let 
you  go  on  ;  but  for  old  days'  remembrance,  and  because 
ye  had  this  toy  with  you  that's  not  fit  for  wounds  or  war- 
fare, I  did  risk  my  two  poor  ears  to  have  you  over  whole. 
Content  you  ;  I  can  no  more,  on  my  salvation  !  " 

Hugh  was  still  speaking,  lying  on  his  oars,  when  there 
came  a  great  shout  from  among  the  willows  on  the  island, 

d  sounds  followed  as  of  a  strong  man  breasting  roughly 
through  the  wood. 

"  A  murrain  ! "  cried  Hugh.  "  He  was  on  the  upper 
land  all  the  while  I "  He  pulled  straight  for  shore. 
Threat  me  with  your  bow,  good  Dick  ;  threat  me  with  it 


4.D  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

plain,"  he  added.  "I  have  tried  to  save  your  skins,  save 
you  mine  ! " 

The  boat  ran  into  a  tough  thicket  of  willows  with  a  crash. 
Matcham,  pale,  but  steady  and  alert,  at  a  sign  from  Dick, 
ran  along  the  thwarts  and  leaped  ashore  ;  Dick,  taking  the 
horse  by  the  bridle,  sought  to  follow,  but  what  with  the 
animal's  bulk,  and  what  with  the  closeness  of  the  thicket, 
both  stuck  fast.  The  horse  neighed  and  trampled  ;  and 
the  boat,  which  was  swinging  in  an  eddy,  came  on  and  off 
and  pitched  with  violence. 

"  It  may  not  be,  Hugh  ;  here  is  no  landing,"  cried  Dick  ; 
but  he  still  struggled  valiantly  with  the  obstinate  thicket 
and  the  startled  animal. 

A  tall  man  appeared  upon  the  shore  of  the  island,  a  long- 
bow in  his  hand.  Dick  saw  him  for  an  instant,  with  the 
corner  of  his  eye,  bending  the  bow  with  a  great  effort,  his 
face  crimson  with  hurry. 

*'  "Who  goes?  "  he  shouted.     "  Hugh,  who  goes  ?  " 

"'Tis  Master  Shelton,  John,"  replied  the  feriyman. 

"  Stand,  Dick  Shelton  I  "  bawled  the  man  upon  the  island. 
"  Ye  shall  have  no  hurt,  upon  the  rood  !  Stand  !  Back 
out,  Hugh  FeiTyman." 

Dick  cried  a  taunting  answer. 

*'Nay,  then,  ye  shall  go  afoot,"  returned  the  man  ;  and 
he  let  drive  an  arrow. 

The  horse,  struck  by  the  shaft,  lashed  out  in  agony  and 
terror ;  the  boat  capsized,  and  next  moment  all  were  strug- 
gling in  the  eddies  of  the  river. 


THE    FEN    FEKRY.  4< 

When  Dick  came  up,  he  was  within  a  yard  of  the  bank ; 
and  before  his  eyes  were  clear,  his  hand  had  closed  on 
something  firm  and  strong  that  instantly  began  to  drag  him 
forward.  It  was  the  riding-rod,  that  Matcham,  crawling 
forth  upon  an  overhanging  willow,  had  opportunely  thrust 
into  his  grasp. 

"By  the  mass!  "  cried  Dick,  as  he  was  helped  ashore, 
"  that  makes  a  life  I  owe  you.  I  swim  like  a  cannon-ball." 
And  he  tui-ned  instantly  towards  the  island. 

Midway  over,  Hugh  Ferryman  was  swimming  with  his 
uj^turned  boat,  while  John-a-Fenne,  furious  at  the  ill-for- 
tune of  his  shot,  bawled  to  him  to  hurry. 

"Come,  Jack,"  said  Shelton,  "run  for  it !  Ere  Hugh 
can  hale  his  barge  across,  or  the  pair  of  'em  can  get  it 
righted,  we  may  be  out  of  cry." 

And  adding  example  to  his  words,  he  began  to  run, 
dodging  among  the  willows,  and  in  marshy  places  leaping 
from  tussock  to  tussock.  He  had  no  time  to  look  for  his 
direction  ;  all  he  could  do  was  to  turn  his  back  upon  the 
river,  and  put  all  his  heart  to  mnning. 

Presently,  however,  the  ground  began  to  rise,  which 
showed  him  he  was  still  in  the  right  way,  and  soon  after 
they  came  forth  upon  a  slope  of  solid  turf,  where  elms 
began  to  mingle  with  the  willows. 

But  here  Matcham,  who  had  been  di-agging  far  into  the 
rear,  threw  himself  fairly  down. 

"Leave  me,  Dick!"  he  cried,  pantingly  ;  "I  can  no 
more." 


4S  THE    BLACK   ARROW. 

Dick  turned,  and  came  back  to  where  his  companion  lay. 

"  Na}',  Jack,  leave  thee !  "  he  cried.  "  That  were  a 
knave's  trick,  to  be  sure,  when  ye  risked  a  shot  and  a  duck- 
ing, ay,  and  a  drowning  too,  to  save  my  life.  Drowning, 
in  sooth  ;  for  why  I  did  not  pull  you  in  along  with  me,  the 
saints  alone  can  tell !  " 

r    'Nay,"  said  Matcham,  ''I  would  'a' saved  us  both,  good 
Dick,  fori  can  swim." 

"  Can  ye  so  ?  "  cried  Dick,  with  open  eyes.  It  was  the 
one  manly  accompHshment  of  which  he  was  himself  in- 
capable. In  the  order  of  the  things  that  he  admii-ed,  next 
to  having  killed  a  man  in  single  fight  came  swimming. 
"Well,"  he  said,  "here  is  a  lesson  to  despise  no  man.  I 
promised  to  care  for  you  as  far  as  Holywood,  and,  by  the 
rood.  Jack,  y'  are  more  capable  to  care  for  me." 

"Well,  Dick,  we're  friends  now,"  said  Matcham. 

"Nay,  I  never  was  unfriends,"  answered  Dick.  "Y' 
are  a  brave  lad  in  your  way,  albeit  something  of  a  milksop, 
too.  I  never  met  your  like  before  this  day.  But,  prithee, 
fetch  back  your  breath,  and  let  us  on.  Here  is  no  place 
for  chatter." 

"  My  foot  hurts  shrewdly,"  said  Matcham. 

"  Nay,  I  had  forgot  your  foot,"  returned  Dick.  "Well, 
we  must  go  the  gentHer.  I  would  I  knew  rightly  where 
we  were.  I  have  clean  lost  the  path  ;  yet  that  may  be  for 
the  better,  too.  An  they  watch  the  ferry,  they  watch  the 
path,  belike,  as  well.  I  would  Sir  Daniel  were  back  with 
two  score  men    he  would  sweep  me  these  rascals  as  the 


THE    FEN    FERRY.  49 

wind  sweeps  leaves.  Come,  Jack,  lean  ye  on  my  shoulder, 
ye  poor  slirew.  Nay,  y'  are  not  tall  enough.  What  age 
are  ye,  for  a  wager  ? — twelve  ?  " 

'•'  Nay,  I  am   sixteen,"  said  Matcham. 

"  T'  are  i)oorly  grown  to  height,  then,"  answered  Dick. 
"Bat  take  my  hand.  We  shall  go  softly,  never  fear.  I 
owe  you  a  life  ;  I  am  a  good  repayer,  Jack,  of  go^  ^  or 
evH." 

They  began  to  go  forward  up  the  slope. 

"We  must  hit  the  road,  early  or  late,"  continued  Dick ; 
•'  and  then  for  a  fresh  start.  By  the  mass  !  but  y'  'ave  a 
rickety  hand.  Jack.  If  I  had  a  hand  like  that,  I  would 
think  shame.  I  tell  you,"'  he  went  on,  with  a  sudden 
chuckle,  "  I  swear  by  the  mass  I  believe  Hugh  Ferryman 
took  you  for  a  maid." 

"Nay,  never  !  "  cried  the  other,  coloring  high. 

*' A'  did,  though,  for  a  wager  ! "  Dick  exclaimed.  "  Small 
blame  to  him.  Ye  look  liker  maid  than  man ;  and  I  tell 
you  more — y'  are  a  strange-looking  rogue  for  a  boy  ;  but 
for  a  hussy,  Jack,  ye  would  be  right  fair — ye  would.  Ye 
would  be  well  favored  for  a  wench." 

"Well,"  said  Matcham,  "  ye  know  right  well  that  I  am 
none." 

"Nay,  I  know  that ;  I  do  but  jest,"  said  Dick.  "Ye'll 
be  a  man  before  youi'  mother.  Jack.  Wliat  cheer,  my  bully ! 
Ye  shall  strike  shrewd  strokes.  Now,  which,  I  marvel,  of 
you  or  me,  shall  be  first  knighted,  Jack?  for  knighted  I 
shall  be,  or  die  for  't.     Sir  Kichard  Shelton,  Knight :  it 


50  THE    BLACK    AEROW. 

soundeth  bravely.     But  '  Sir  John  Matcham'  soundeth  not 

amiss." 

"Prithee,  Dick,  stop  till  I  drink,"  said  the  other,  pausing 
where  a  little  clear  spring  welled  out  of  the  slope  into  a 
gravelled  basin  no  bigger  than  a  pocket.  "  And  0,  Dick,  if 
I  might  come  by  anything  to  eat  I — my  very  heart  aches 
with  hunger." 

"Why,  fool,  did  ye  not  eat  at  Kettley?"  asked  Dick. 

"I  had  made  a  vow — it  was  a  sin  I  had  been  led  into." 
stammered  Matcham  ;  "  but  now,  if  it  were  but  dry  bread, 
I  would  eat  it  greedily." 

"  Sit  ye,  then,  and  eat,"  said  Dick.  *'  while  that  I  scout 
a  little  forward  for  the  road."  And  he  took  a  wallet  from 
his  girdle,  wherein  were  bread  and  pieces  of  di-y  bacon, 
and,  while  Matcham  fell  heartily  to,  struck  farther  forth 
among  the  trees. 

A  little  beyond  there  was  a  dip  in  the  ground,  where  a 
streamlet  soaked  among  dead  leaves  ;  and  beyond  that, 
again,  the  trees  were  better  grown  and  stood  wider,  and 
oak  and  beech  began  to  take  the  place  of  willow  and  elm. 
The  continued  tossing  and  poui^ing  of  the  wind  among 
the  leaves  sufficiently  concealed  the  sounds  of  his  foot- 
steps on  the  mast ;  it  was  for  the  ear  what  a  moonless 
night  is  to  the  eye  ;  but  for  all  that  Dick  went  cautiously, 
slipping  from  one  big  trunk  to  another,  and  looking  sharp- 
ly about  him  as  he  went.  Suddenly  a  doe  passed  like  a 
shadow  through  the  underwood  in  front  of  him,  and  he 
paused,  disgusted  at  the  chance.     This  part  of  the  wood 


A    GREENWOOD    COMPANY.  51 

had  been  certainly  deserted,  but  now  that  the  poor  deer 
had  run,  she  was  hke  a  messenger  he  should  have  sent  be- 
fore him  to  announce  his  coming ;  and  instead  of  push- 
ing farther,  he  turned  him  to  the  nearest  well-gro\yn  tree, 
and  rapidly  began  to  climb. 

Luck  had  served  him  well.  The  oak  on  which  he  had 
mounted  was  one  of  the  tallest  in  that  quarter  of  the 
wood,  and  easily  out-topped  its  neighbours  by  a  fathom 
and  a  half ;  and  when  Dick  had  clambered  into  the  top- 
most fork  and  clung  there,  swinging  dizzily  in  the  gi'eat 
wind,  he  saw  behind  him  the  whole  fenny  plain  as  far  as 
Kettley,  and  the  Till  wandering  among  woody  islets,  and  in 
front  of  him,  the  white  line  of  high-road  winding  through 
the  forest.  The  boat  had  been  righted— it  was  even  now 
midway  on  the  ferry.  Beyond  that  there  was  no  sign  of 
man,  nor  aught  moving  but  the  wind.  He  was  about  to 
descend,  when,  taking  a  last  view,  his  eye  lit  upon  a  string 
of  moving  points  about  the  middle  of  the  fen.  Plainly  a 
small  troop  was  threading  the  causeway,  and  that  at  a 
good  pace  ;  and  this  gave  him  some  concern  as  he  shinned 
vigorously  down  the  trunk  and  returned  across  the  wood 
for  his  companion. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A    GEEZNWOOD     COMPANY. 


Matcham  was  well  rested  and  revived ;  and  the  two  lads, 
winged  bv  what  Dick  had  seen,  hunied  throu^rh  the  re- 


52  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

mainder  of  the  outwoocl,  crossed  the  road  in  safety,  and 
began  to  mount  into  the  high  ground  of  Tunstall  Forest. 
The  trees  grew  more  and  more  in  groves,  with  heathy 
places  in  between,  sandy,  gorsy,  and  dotted  with  old  yews. 
The  ground  became  more  and  more  uneven,  full  of  pits 
and  hillocks.  And  with  every  step  of  the  ascent  the  wind 
still  blew  the  shriller,  and  the  trees  bent  before  the  gusts 
like  fishing-rods. 

They  had  just  entered  one  of  the  clearings,  when  Dick 
suddenly  clapped  down  upon  his  face  among  the  bram- 
bles, and  began  to  crawl  slowly  backward  towards  the 
shelter  of  the  grove.  Matcham,  in  great  bewilderment, 
for  he  could  see  no  reason  for  this  flight,  still  imitated  his 
companion's  course  ;  and  it  was  not  until  they  had  gained 
the  harbour  of  a  thicket  that  he  turned  and  begged  him 
to  explain. 

For  all  reply,  Dick  pointed  with  his  finger. 

At  the  far  end  of  the  clearing,  a  fir  grew  high  above  the 
neighbouring  wood,  and  planted  its  black  shock  of  f  ohage 
clear  against  the  sky.  For  about  fifty  feet  above  the 
ground  the  trunk  grew  straight  and  solid  like  a  column. 
At  that  level,  it  split  into  two  massive  boughs  ;  and  in  the 
fork,  like  a  mast-headed  seaman,  there  stood  a  man  in  a 
green  tabard,  spying  far  and  wide.  The  sun  glistened  upon 
his  hair  ;  with  one  hand  he  shaded  his  eyes  to  look  abroad, 
and  he  kept  slowly  rolling  his  head  from  side  to  side, 
with  the  regularity  of  a  machine. 

The  lads  exchanged  glances. 


A    GREENWOOD    COilPAXY.  Oo 

"Let  us  try  to  the  left,"  said  Dick.  "We  had  neai 
fallen  foully,  Jack." 

Ten  minutes  afterwards  they  struck  into  a  beaten  path. 

'"Here  is  a  piece  of  forest  that  I  know  not,"  Dick  re- 
mai'ked.     '*'  Where  goeth  me  this  track  ?  " 

''  Let  us  even  try,"  said  Matcham. 

A  few  yards  fui'ther,  the  path  came  to  the  top  of  a  ridge 
and  began  to  go  down  abrujDtly  into  a  cu2>shaped  hollow. 
At  the  foot,  out  of  a  thick  wood  of  flowering  hawthorn, 
two  or  three  roofless  gables,  blackened  as  if  by  fire,  and  a 
single  tall  chimney  mai'ked  the  ruins  of  a  house. 

"  What  may  this  be  ?  "  whispered  AEatcham. 

"Xay,  by  the  mass,  I  know  not,"'  answered  Dick.  "I 
am  all  at  sea.     Let  us  go  warily." 

With  beating  hearts,  they  descended  thi'ough  the  haw- 
thorns. Here  and  there,  they  passed  signs  of  recent  cul- 
tivation ;  fruit  trees  and  pot  herbs  ran  wild  among  the 
thicket  ;  a  sun-dial  had  fallen  in  the  gi'ass ;  it  seemed  they 
were  treading  what  once  had  been  a  garden.  Yet  a  Httle 
farther  and  they  came  forth  before  the  ruins  of  the  house. 

It  had  been  a  pleasant  mansion  and  a  strong.  A  dry 
ditch  was  dug  deep  about  it  ;  but  it  was  now  choked 
^ith  masonry,  and  bridged  by  a  fallen  rafter.  The  two 
fai'ther  walls  still  stood,  the  sun  shining  through  their 
empty  windows  ;  but  the  remainder  of  the  building  had 
collapsed,  and  now  lay  in  a  great  caii^n  of  ruin,  gi'imed 
with  fire.  Already  in  the  interior  a  few  plants  were  spring- 
ing green  among  the  chinks. 


54  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"Now  I  bethink  me,"  whispered  Dick,  "this  must  be 
Grimstone.  It  was  a  hold  of  one  Simon  Malmesbury ;  Sir 
Daniel  was  his  bane  !  'Twas  Bennet  Hatch  that  burned 
it,  now  five  years  agone.  In  sooth,  'twas  pity,  for  it  was  a 
fair  house." 

Down  in  the  hollow,  where  no  wind  blew,  it  was  both 
warm  and  still  ;  and  Matcham,  laying  one  hand  upon  Dick's 
arm,  held  up  a  warning  finger. 

"  Hist !"  he  said. 

Then  came  a  strange  sound,  breaking  on  the  quiet.  It 
was  twice  repeated  ere  they  recognized  its  nature.  It  was 
the  sound  of  a  big  man  clearing  his  throat ;  and  just  then 
a  hoarse,  untuneful  voice  broke  into  singing. 

"  Then  up  and  spake  the  master,  the  king  of  the  outlaws: 
'What  make  ye  here,  my  merry  men,   among  'the    greenwood 

shaws  ? ' 
And  Gamelyn  made  answer — he  looked  never  adown  : 
*  O,   they  must  need   to  walk  in   wood   that    may  not  walk   in 

town  I '  ■' 

The  singer  paused,  a  faint  clink  of  iron  followed,  and 
then  silence. 

The  two  lads  stood  looking  at  each  other.  Whoever  he 
might  be,  their  invisible  neighbour  was  just  beyond  the 
ruin.  And  suddenly  the  colour  came  into  Matcham's  face, 
and  next  moment  he  had  crossed  the  fallen  rafter,  and  was 
climbing  cautiously  on  the  huge  pile  of  lumber  that  filled 
the  interior  of  the  roofless  house,  Dick  would  have  with- 
held him,  had  he  been  in  time  ;  as  it  was,  he  was  fain  to 
follow. 


A    GREENWOOD    COMPANY.  Oi» 

Right  in  the  comer  of  the  ruin,  two  rafters  had  fallen 
crosswise,  and  protected  a  clear  space  no  larger  than  a  pew 
in  church.  Into  this  the  lads  silently  lowered  themselves. 
There  they  were  perfectly  concealed,  and  through  an  ar- 
row-loophole commanded  a  view  upon  the  farther  side. 

Peering  through  this,  they  were  struck  stiff  with  terror 
at  their  predicament.  To  retreat  was  impossible  ;  they 
scarce  dared  to  breathe.  Upon  the  very  margin  of  the 
ditch,  not  thirty  feet  from  where  they  crouched,  an  u^on 
caldron  bubbled  and  steamed  above  a  glowing  fire  ;  and 
close  by,  in  an  attitude  of  listening,  as  though  he  had 
caught  some  sound  of  their  clambering  among  the  iTiins, 
a  tall,  red-faced,  battered-looking  man  stood  poised,  an 
ii'on  spoon  in  his  right  hand,  a  horn  and  a  formidable 
dagger  at  his  belt.  Plainly  this  was  the  singer ;  plainly 
he  had  been  stirring  the  caldron,  when  some  incautious 
step  among  the  lumber  had  fallen  upon  his  ear.  A  httle 
further  off,  another  man  lay  slumbering,  rolled  in  a  brown 
cloak,  with  a  butterfly  hovering  above  his  face.  All  this 
was  in  a  clearing  white  with  daisies  ;  and  at  the  extreme 
verge,  a  bow,  a  sheaf  of  arrows,  and  part  of  a  deer's  car- 
case, hung  upon  a  flowering  hawthorn. 

Presently  the  feUow  relaxed  from  his  attitude  of  atten- 
tion, raised  the  spoon  to  his  mouth,  tasted  its  contents, 
nodded,  and  then  fell  again  to  stirring  and  singing. 
-  "  '  O,  they  must  need  to  walk  in  wood  that  may  not 
walk  in  town,' "  he  croaked,  taking  up  his  song  where  he 
had  left  it. 


66  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"  O,  sir,  we  walk  not  here  at  all  an  evil  tiling  to  do. 
But  if  we  meet  with  the  good  king's  deer  to  shoot  a  shaft  into." 

Still  as  he  sang,  lie  took  from  time  to  time  anotliei 
spoonful  of  the  broth,  blew  upon  it,  and  tasted  it,  with  all 
the  aii'S  of  an  experienced  cook.  At  length,  apparently, 
he  judged  the  mess  was  ready  ;  for  taking  the  horn  from 
his  girdle,  he  blew  three  modulated  calls. 

The  other  fellow  awoke,  rolled  over,  brushed  away  the 
butterfly,  and  looked  about  him. 

**  How  now,  brother  ?  "  he  said.      *'  Dinner  ?  " 

"  Ay,  sot,  "  replied  the  cook,  ''  dinner  it  is,  and  a  dry 
dinner,  too,  with  neither  ale  nor  bread.  But  there  is  Ht- 
tle  pleasure  in  the  greenwood  now  ;  time  was  when  a  good 
fellow  could  live  here  like  a  mitred  abbot,  set  aside  the 
rain  and  the  white  frosts  ;  he  had  his  heart's  desire  both 
of  ale  and  wine.  But  now  are  men's  spirits  dead  ;  and 
this  John  Amend-All,  save  us  and  guard  us  !  but  a  stuffed 
booby  to  scare  crows  withal." 

"Nay,"  returned  the  other,  "y'  are  too  set  on  meat  and 
drinking,  Lawless.     Bide  ye  a  bit  ;  the  good  time  cometh." 

"Look  ye,"  returned  the  cook,  "  I  have  even  waited  for 
this  good  time  sith  that  I  was  so  high.  I  have  been  a  grey 
friar  ;  I  have  been  a  king's  archer  ;  I  have  been  a  shipman, 
and  sailed  the  salt  seas ;  and  I  have  been  in  greenwood 
l)efore  this,  forsooth!  and  shot  the  king's  deer.  What 
cometh  of  it  ?  Naught !  I  were  better  to  have  bided  in 
the  cloister,  John  Abbot  availeth  more  than  John  Amend- 
All.     By  'r  Lady  !  here  they  come." 


A    GKEKNWOOD    COMPANY.  57 

One  after  another,  tall,  likely  fellows  began  to  stroll  into 
the  lawn.  Each  as  he  came  produced  a  knife  and  a  horn 
cup,  helped  himself  from  the  caldron,  and  sat  down  upon 
the  grass  to  eat.  They  were  very  variously  equipped  and 
armed  ;  some  in  rusty  smocks,  and  with  nothing  but  a 
knife  and  an  old  bow  ;  others  in  the  height  of  forest  gal- 
lantry, all  in  Lincoln  green,  both  hood  and  jerkin,  with 
dainty  peacock  arrows  in  their  belts,  a  hom  upon  a  bald- 
rick,  and  a  sword  and  dagger  at  their  sides.  They  camo 
in  the  silence  of  hunger,  and  scarce  growled  a  salutation, 
but  fell  instantly  to  meat. 

There  were,  perhaps,  a  score  of  them  ah'eady  gathered, 
when  a  sound  of  suppressed  cheering  arose  close  by  among 
the  hawthorns,  and  immediately  after  five  or  six  wood- 
men cariying  a  stretcher  debouched  upon  the  lawn.  A 
tall,  lusty  fellow,  somewhat  giizzled,  and  as  brown  as  a 
smoked  ham,  walked  before  them  with  an  air  of  some  au- 
thority, his  bow  at  his  back,  a  bright  boar-spear  in  his 
hand. 

''  Lads  !  "  he  cried,  "  good  fellows  all,  and  my  right 
meri-y  friends,  y'  have  sung  this  while  on  a  dry  whistle 
and  lived  at  httle  ease.  But  what  said  I  ever  ?  Abide 
Fortune  constantly  ;  she  tm-neth,  tumeth  swift.  And 
lo !  here  is  her  httle  nrsthng — even  that  good  creature, 
ale!" 

There  was  a  murmur  of  applause  as  the  bearers  set 
down  the  stretcher  and  displayed  a  goodly  cask. 

"And    now    haste    ye,    boys,"    the    man    continued. 


08  THE    BLACK    AiiliOW. 

"There  is  work  toward.  A  handful  of  archers  are  but 
now  come  to  the  ferry  ;  murrey  and  blue  is  their  wear  ; 
they  are  our  butts — they  shall  all  taste  arrows — no  man  of 
them  shall  struggle  through  this  wood.  For,  lads,  we 
are  here  some  fifty  strong,  each  man  of  us  most  foully 
wi'onged  ;  for  some  they  have  lost  lands,  and  some  friends  ; 
and  some  they  have  been  outlawed — all  oppressed  !  Who, 
then,  hath  done  this  evil  ?  Sir  Daniel,  by  the  rood ! 
Shall  he  then  profit?  shall  he  sit  snug  in  our  houses? 
shall  he  till  our  fields  ?  shall  he  suck  the  bone  he  robbed 
us  of  ?  I  trow  not.  He  getteth  him  strength  at  law  ;  he 
gaineth  cases  ;  nay,  there  is  one  case  he  shall  not  gain — 
I  have  a  writ  here  at  my  belt  that,  please  the  saints,  shall 
conquer  him." 

Lawless  the  cook  was  by  this  time  already  at  his  second 
horn  of  ale.     He  raised  it,  as  if  to  pledge  the  speaker. 

"  Master  Ellis,"  he  said,  "  y'  are  for  vengeance — well  it 
becometh  you  !  —  but  your  poor  brother  o'  the  greenwood, 
that  had  never  lands  to  lose  nor  friends  to  think  upon, 
looketh  rather,  for  his  poor  part,  to  the  profit  of  the  thing. 
He  had  liever  a  gold  noble  and  a  pottle  of  canary  wine 
than  all  the  vengeances  in  purgatory." 

'* Lawless,"  rephed  the  other,  "to  reach  the  Moat 
House,  Sir  Daniel  must  pass  the  forest.  We  shall  make 
that  passage  dearer,  pardy,  than  any  battle.  Then,  when 
he  hath  got  to  earth  with  such  ragged  handful  as  escapeth 
us — all  his  great  friends  fallen  and  fled  away,  and  none  to 
give  him  aid — we  shall  beleaguer  that  old  fox  about,  and 


A    CKEKN^VOOD    C0MPA2sY.  59 

great  shall  be  the  fall  of  him.  'Tis  a  fat  buck  ;  he  -^ill 
make  a  dinner  for  us  all.  " 

'"'  Ay,"  returned  Lawless,  "  I  have  eaten  many  of  these 
dinners  beforehand  ;  but  the  cooking  of  them  is  hot  work, 
good  Master  EUis.  And  meanwhile  what  do  we  ?  "We 
make  black  arrows,  we  wiite  rhymes,  and  we  drink  fair 
cold  water,  that  discomfortable  drink." 

"  Y'  are  untrue,  Will  Lawless.  Te  still  smell  of  the 
Grey  Friars'  buttery  ;  greed  is  your  undoing,"  answered 
Ellis.  "  "We  took  twenty  pounds  from  Appleyard.  We 
took  seven  marks  from  the  messenger  last  night.  A  day 
ago  we  had  fifty  from  the  merchant." 

"And  to-day,"  said  one  of  the  men,  "  I  stopped  a  fat 
pardoner  riding  apace  for  Hoh-wood.    Here  is  his  purse." 

Ellis  counted  the  contents. 

"Fivescore  shillings  !"  he  grumbled.  "Fool,  he  had 
more  in  his  sandal,  or  stitched  into  his  tippet.  Y'  ai'e  but 
a  child,  Tom  Cuckow  :  ye  have  lost  the  fish." 

But,  for  all  that,  Ellis  pocketed  the  purse  with  non- 
chalance. He  stood  leaning  on  his  boar-spear,  and  looked 
round  upon  the  rest.  They,  in  various  attitudes,  took 
gr3edily  of  the  venison  pottage,  and  hberally  washed  it 
down  with  ale.  This  was  a  good  day  ;  they  were  in  luck  ; 
but  business  pressed,  and  they  were  speedy  in  their  eat- 
ing. The  first-comers  had  by  this  time  even  despatched 
their  dinner.  Some  lay  down  upon  the  gi^ass  and  fell  in- 
stantly asleep,  like  boa-constiictors  ;  others  talked  to- 
gether, or   overhauled   their  weapons  ;   and   one,  whose 


60  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

liumour  was  particularly  gay,  holding  forth  an  ale-horn, 

be^an  to  sinpf : 


'&^ 


*'  Here  is  no  law  in  good  green  shaw, 
Here  is  no  lack  of  meat ; 
'Tis  merry  and  quiet,  with  deer  for  our  diet, 
In  summer,  when  all  is  sweet. 

Come  winter  again,  with  wind  and  rain — 

Come  winter,  with  snow  and  sleet, 
Get  home  to  your  places,  with  hoods  on  your  faces, 

And  sit  by  the  fire  and  eat." 

All  this  while  the  two  lads  had  listened  and  lain  close  ; 
only  Richard  had  unslung  his  cross-bow,  and  held  ready 
in  one  hand  the  windac,  or  gTappling-u'on  that  he  used  to 
bend  it.  Otherwise  they  had  not  dared  to  stir  ;  and  thia 
scene  of  forest  life  had  gone  on  before  their  eyes  like  a 
scene  upon  a  theatre.  But  now  there  came  a  strange  in- 
terruption. The  tall  chimney  w^hich  overtopped  the  re- 
mainder of  the  ruins  rose  right  above  their  hiding-place. 
There  came  a  whistle  in  the  air,  and  then  a  sounding 
smack,  and  the  fragments  of  a  broken  arrow  fell  about 
their  ears.  Some  one  from  the  upper  quarters  of  the 
wood,  perhaps  the  very  sentinel  they  saw  posted  in  the 
fir,  had  shot  an  arrow  at  the  chimney-top. 

Matcham  could  not  restrain  a  little  cry,  which  he  in- 
stantly stifled,  and  even  Dick  started  with  surprise,  and 
dropped  the  windac  from  his  fingers.  But  to  the  fellows 
on  the  lawn,  this  shaft  was  an  expected  signal.  They 
were  all  afoot   together,    tightening  their  belts,    testing 


A    GREENWOOD    COMPANY.  61 

their  bow-strings,  loosening  sword  and  dagger  in  the 
sheath.  ElHs  held  up  his  hand  ;  his  face  had  suddenly 
assumed  a  look  of  savage  energy  ;  the  white  of  his  eyes 
shone  in  his  sun-brown  face. 

"Lads,"  he  said,  "ye  know  your  places.  Let  not  one 
man's  soul  escape  you.  Appleyard  was  a  whet  before  a 
meal ;  but  now  we  go  to  table.  I  have  three  men  whom 
I  will  bitterly  avenge — Harry  Shelton,  Simon  Malmesbury, 
and  " — striking  his  broad  bosom — "  and  Ellis  Duckworth, 
by  the  mass  ! " 

Another  man  came,  red  with  hurry,  through  the  thorns. 

"  Tis  not  Sir  Daniel !  "  he  panted.  "  They  are  but 
seven.     Is  the  arrow  gone  ?  " 

"It  struck  but  now,"  replied  Ellis. 

"  A  muiTain  !  "  cried  the  messenger.  "  Methought  I 
heard  it  whistle.     And  I  go  dinnerless  !  " 

In  the  space  of  a  minute,  some  running,  some  walking 
sharply,  according  as  their  stations  were  nearer  or  farther 
away,  the  men  of  the  Black  Arrow  had  all  disappeared 
from  the  neighbourhood  of  the  ruined  house  ;  and  the  cal- 
dron, and  the  fire,  which  was  now  burning  low,  and  the 
dead  deer's  carcase  on  the  hawthorn,  remained  alone  to 
testify  they  had  been  there. 


62  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

CHAPTER  V. 

"  BLOODY    AS     THE    HUNTEB." 

The  lads  lay  quiet  till  the  last  footstep  had  melted  on 
the  wind.  Then  they  arose,  and  with  many  an  ache,  for 
they  were  weary  with  constraint,  clambered  through  the 
iniins,  and  recrossed  the  ditch  upon  the  rafter.  Matcham 
had  picked  up  the  windac  and  went  first,  Dick  following 
stiffly,  with  his  cross-bow  on  his  arm. 

"And  now,"  said  Matcham,  ^'-  forth  to  Holywood." 

*'  To  Holywood  !  "  cried  Dick,  "  when  good  fellows 
stand  shot  ?    Not  I !     I  would  see  you  hanged  first,  Jack ! " 

"  Ye  would  leave  me,  would  ye  ?  "     Matcham  asked. 

"  Ay,  by  my  sooth  !  "  returned  Dick.  "  An  I  be  not  in 
time  to  warn  these  lads,  I  will  go  die  with  them.  What ! 
would  ye  have  me  leave  my  own  men  that  I  have  lived 
among.     I  trow  not !     Give  me  my  windac." 

But  there  was  nothing  fm-ther  from  Matcham's  mind. 

"  Dick,"  he  said,  "  ye  sware  before  the  saints  that  ye 
would  see  me  safe  to  Holywood.  Would  ye  be  forsworn  ? 
Would  you  desert  me — a  pei-jurer  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  sware  for  the  best,"  returned  Dick.  "  I  meant 
it  too  ;  but  now  !  But  look  ye  Jack,  turn  again  with  me. 
Let  me  but  warn  these  men,  and,  if  needs  must,  stand 
shot  with  them  ;  then  shall  all  be  clear,  and  I  will  on 
again  to  Holvwood  and  purge  mine  oath." 


63 

"  Ye  but  deride  me,"  answered  Matcham.  "  These  men 
ye  go  to  succour  are  the  same  that  hunt  me  to  my  ruin." 

Dick  scratched  his  head. 

'•'I  cannot  help  it,  Jack,"  he  said.  "Here  is  no  remedy. 
What  would  ye  ?  Ye  run  no  great  peril,  man  ;  and  these 
are  iu  the  way  of  death.  Death  !  "  he  added.  "  Think 
of  it !  T\liat  a  muiTain  do  ye  keep  me  here  for  ?  Give 
me  the  ^indac.     Saint  George  !  shall  they  all  die  ?  " 

"Richard  Shelton,"  said  Matcham,  looking  him  squarely 
in  the  face,  "would  ye,  then,  join  party  with  Sir  Daniel? 
Have  ye  not  ears  ?  Heard  ye  not  this  Ellis,  what  he  said  ? 
or  have  ye  no  heart  for  your  own  kindly  iDlood  and  the 
father  that  men  slew?  '  Harry  Shelton,'  he  said  ;  and  Sir 
Harry  Shelton  was  your  father,  as  the  sun  shines  in 
heaven." 

"What  would  ye?"  Dick  cried  again.  "Would  ye 
have  me  credit  thieves  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  have  heard  it  before  now,"  returned  Matcham. 
"  The  fame  goeth  curi'ently,  it  was  Sir  Daniel  slew  him. 
He  slew  him  under  oath  ;  in  his  own  house  he  shed  the 
innocent  blood.  Heaven  wearies  for  the  avenging  on't  ; 
and  you — the  man's  son — ye  go  about  to  comfort  and  de- 
fend the  murderer  I  " 

"  Jack,"  cried  the  lad,  "  I  know  not.  It  may  be  ;  what 
know  I  ?  But,  see  here  :  This  man  hath  bred  me  up  and 
fostered  me,  and  his  men  I  have  hunted  with  and  played 
among  ;  and  to  leave  them  in  the  hour  of  peril— O,  man, 
if  I  did  that,  I  were  stark  dead  to  honour !     Nay,  Jack, 


64  THE    BLACK   ARROW. 

ye  would  not  ask  it ;  ye  would  not  wish  me  to  be 
base." 

"But  your  father,  Dick?"  said  Matcham,  somewhat 
wavering.  "  Tour  father  ?  and  your  oath  to  me  ?  Ye 
took  the  saints  to  witness." 

"My  father?"  cried  Shelton.  "Nay,  he  would  have 
me  go !  If  Sir  Daniel  slew  him,  when  the  hour  comes  this 
hand  shall  slay  Sir  Daniel ;  but  neither  him  nor  his  will  I 
desert  in  peril.  And  for  mine  oath,  good  Jack,  ye  shall 
absolve  me  of  it  here.  For  the  lives'  sake  of  many  men 
that  hurt  you  not,  and  for  mine  honour,  ye  shall  set  me 
free." 

"  I,  Dick  ?  Never  !  "  returned  Matcham.  "An  ye 
leave  me,  y'  are  forsworn,  and  so  I  shall  declare  it." 

"My  blood  heats,"  said  Dick.  "  Give  me  the  windac  ! 
Give  it  me  !  " 

"  111  not,"  said  Matcham.    "  I'll  save  you  in  your  teeth." 

"Not  ?  "  cried  Dick.     "  I'll  make  you  !  " 

"  Try  it,"  said  the  other. 

They  stood,  looking  in  each  other's  eyes,  each  ready  for 
a  spring.  Then  Dick  leaped ;  and  though  Matcham 
turned  instantly  and  fled,  in  two  bounds  he  was  over- 
taken, the  windac*  was  twisted  from  his  grasp,  he  wa3 
thrown  roughly  to  the  ground,  and  Dick  stood  across  him, 
flushed  and  menacing,  with  doubled  fist.  Matcham  lay 
where  he  had  fallen,  with  his  face  in  the  grass,  not  think 
ing  of  resistance. 

Dick  bent  his  bow. 


"bloody  as  the  hu^'tek."  65 

"  111  teach  3'ou  !  "  lie  cried,  fiercely.  *'  Oath  or  no  oath, 
ye  may  go  hang  for  me  !  " 

And  he  turned  and  began  to  run.  Matcham  was  on  his 
feet  at  once,  and  began  running  after  him. 

"What  d'ye  want?"  cried  Dick,  stopping.  "What 
make  ye  after  me  ?     Stand  off !  " 

"I  will  follow  an  I  please,"  said  Matcham.  "  This  wood 
is  free  to  me." 

"Stand  back,  by'r  Lady ! "  returned  Dick,  raising  his  bow. 

"  Ah,  y'  are  a  brave  boy  !  "  retorted  Matcham.     "  Shoot !  " 

Dick  lowered  his  weapon  in  some  confusion. 

"  See  here,"  he  said.  "  Y'  have  done  me  ill  enough. 
Go,  then.  Go  your  way  in  fair  wise  ;  or,  whether  I  will 
or  not,  I  must  even  drive  you  to  it." 

"Well,"  said  Matcham,  doggedly,  "  y'  are  the  stronger. 
Do  your  worst.  I  shall  not  leave  to  follow  thee,  Dick, 
unless  thou  makest  me,"  he  added. 

Dick  was  almost  beside  himself.  It  went  against  his 
heart  to  beat  a  creature  so  defenceless  ;  and,  for  the  life 
of  him,  he  knew  no  other  way  to  rid  himself  of  this  un- 
welcome and,  as  he  began  to  think,  perhaps  untrue  com- 
panion. 

"  Y'  are  mad,  I  thmk,"  he  cried.  "  Fool-fellow,  I  am 
hasting  to  your  foes  ;  as  fast  as  foot  can  carry  me,  go  I 
thither." 

"I  care  not,  Dick,"  replied  the  lad.  "If  y' are  bound 
to  die,  Dick,  I'll  die  too.  I  would  Uever  go  with  you  to 
prison  than  to  go  free  without  you." 


bb  THE   BLACK   AEEOW. 

"  Well,"  returned  the  other,  "  I  may  stand  no  longer 
prating.  Follow  me,  if  ye  must ;  but  if  ye  play  me  false, 
it  shall  but  little  advance  you,  mark  ye  that.  Shalt  have 
a  quaiTel  in  thine  inwards,  boy." 

So  saying,  Dick  took  once  more  to  his  heels,  keeping  in 
the  margin  of  the  thicket  and  looking  briskly  about  him 
as  he  went.  At  a  good  pace  he  rattled  out  of  the  dell, 
and  came  again  into  the  more  open  quarters  of  the  wood. 
To  the  left  a  little  eminence  appeared,  spotted  with  gol- 
den gorse,  and  crowned  with  a  black  tuft  of  firs. 

"I  shall  see  from  there,"  he  thought,  and  struck  for  it 
across  a  heathy  clearing. 

He  had  gone  but  a  few  yards,  when  Matcham  touched 
him  on  the  arm,  and  pointed.  To  the  eastward  of  the 
summit  there  was  a  dip,  and,  as  it  were,  a  valley  passing 
to  the  other  side  ;  the  heath  was  not  yet  out  ;  all  the 
ground  was  rusty,  like  an  unscoured  buckler,  and  dotted 
sparingly  with  yews  ;  and  there,  one  following  another, 
Dick  saw  half  a  score  green  jerkins  mounting  the  ascent, 
and  marching  at  their  head,  conspicuous  by  his  boar- 
spear,  Ellis  Duckworth  in  person.  One  after  another 
gained  the  top,  showed  for  a  moment  against  the  sky, 
and  then  dipped  upon  the  further  side,  until  the  last  was 
gone. 

Dick  looked  at  Matcham  with  a  kindlier  eye. 

"Soy' are  to  be  true  to  me,  Jack?"  he  asked.  "I 
thought  ye  were  of  the  other  party." 

Matcham  beg-an  to  sob. 


67 

''What  cheer  I ''  cried  Dick.  '-'Now  the  saints  behold 
as  I  would  ye  snivel  for  a  word  ?  " 

"Ye  hurt  me,"  sobbed  Matcham.  '*  Ye  hurt  me  when 
ye  threw  me  down.  Y'  ai'e  a  coward  to  abuse  your 
strength." 

"  Nay,  that  is  fool's  talk/'  said  Dick,  roughly.  "  Y'  had 
no  title  to  my  windac,  Master  John.  I  would  'a'  done 
right  to  have  well  basted  yoa  If  ye  go  with  me,  ye  must 
obey  me  ;  and  so,  come." 

]\Iatcham  had  half  a  thought  to  stay  behind  ;  but,  see- 
ing that  Dick  continued  to  scour  full-tilt  towards  the  emi- 
nence and  not  so  much  as  looked  across  his  shoulder,  he 
soon  thought  better  of  that,  and  began  to  run  in  turn. 
But  the  ground  was  very  difficult  and  steep  ;  Dick  had 
akeady.a  long  start,  and  had,  at  any  rate,  the  lighter  heels, 
and  he  had  long  since  come  to  the  summit,  crawled  for- 
ward through  the  lirs,  and  ensconced  himself  in  a  thick 
tuft  of  gorse,  before  Matcham,  panting  like  a  deer,  rejoined 
him,  and  lay  down  in  silence  by  his  side. 

Below,  in  the  bottom  of  a  considerable  valley,  the  short 
cut  from  Tuustall  hamlet  wound  downwards  to  the  feriy. 
It  was  well  beaten,  and  the  eye  followed  it  easily  from 
point  to  point.  Here  it  was  bordered  by  open  glades ; 
there  the  forest  closed  ujDon  it ;  every  hundi-ed  yards  it  ran 
beside  an  ambush.  Far  down  the  path,  the  sun  shone  on 
seven  steel  salets,  and  from  time  to  time,  as  the  trees 
opened,  Selden  and  his  men  could  be  seen  riding  briskly, 
still  bent  upon  Sii'  Daniel's  mission.     The  wind  had  some- 


68  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

what  falleu,  but  still  tussled  merrily  with  the  trees,  and, 
perhaps,  had  Applejard  been  there,  he  would  have  di'awn 
a  warning  from  the  troubled  conduct  of  the  bu'ds. 

"  Now,  mark,"  Dick  whispered.  "  They  be  already  well 
advanced  into  the  wood  ;  their  safety  lieth  rather  in  con- 
tinuing forward.  But  see  ye  where  this  wide  glade  run- 
neth down  before  us,  and  in  the  midst  of  it,  these  two 
score  trees  make  like  an  island  ?  There  were  their  safety. 
An  they  but  come  sound  as  fai'  as  that,  I  will  make  shift 
to  warn  them.  But  my  heart  misgiveth  me  ;  they  are  but 
seven  against  so  many,  and  they  but  carry  cross-bows. 
The  long-bow,  Jack,  will  have  the  uppermost  ever." 

Meanwhile,  Selc^en  and  his  men  still  wound  up  the 
path,  ignorant  of  their  danger,  and  momently  drew  nearer 
hand.  Once,  indeed,  they  paused,  drew  into  a  gi'oup,  and 
seemed  to  point  and  Hsten.  But  it  was  something  from 
far  away  across  the  plain  that  had  aiTCsted  theu'  attention 
— a  hollow  growl  of  cannon  that  came,  from  time  to  time, 
upon  the  wind,  and  told  of  the  gi'eat  battle.  It  was  worth 
a  thought,  to  be  sure  ;  for  if  the  voice  of  the  big  guns 
were  thus  become  audible  in  Tunstall  Forest,  the  fight 
must  have  rolled  ever  eastward,  and  the  day,  by  conse- 
quence, gone  sore  against  Sir  Daniel  and  the  lords  of  the 
dark  rose. 

But  presently  the  little  troop  began  again  to  move  for- 
ward, and  came  next  to  a  very  open,  heathy  portion  of  the 
way,  where  but  a  single  tongue  of  forest  ran  down  to  join 
the  road.     They  were  but  just  abreast  of  this,  when  an  ai'- 


"bloody  as  the  hunter."  69 

row  shone  flying.     One  of  the  men  thi-ew  up  his  arms,  his 
horse  reared,  and  both  fell  and   struggled  together  in  a 
mass.     Even  from  where  the  boys  lay  they  could  hear  the 
rumour  of  the  men's  voices  crying  out ;  they  could  see  the 
startled  horses  prancing,  and,  presently,  as  the  troop  be- 
gan to  recover  from  their  first  surprise,  one  fellow  begin- 
ning to  dismount.     A  second  arrow  from  somewhat  far- 
ther off  glanced  in  a  wide  arch  ;  a  second  rider  bit  the 
dust.     The  man  who  was  dismounting  lost  hold  upon  the 
rein,  and  his  horse  fled  galloping,  and  dragged  him  by  the 
foot  along  the  road,  bumping  fi'om  stone  to  stone,  and 
battered  by  the  fleeing  hoofs.     The  four  who  still  kept  the 
saddle  instantly  broke  and  scattered  ;  one  wheeled  and 
rode,  shi'ieking,  towards  the  ferry  ;  the  other  three,  with 
loose  rein  and  flying  raiment,  came  galloping  up  the  road 
from  Tunstall.     From  every  clump  they  passed  an  arrow 
sped.     Soon  a  horse  fell,  but  the  rider  found  his  feet  and 
continued  to  pursue  his  comrades  till  a  second  shot  des- 
patched him.     Another  man  fell  ;  then  another  horse  ;  out 
of  the  whole  troop  there  was  but  one  fellow  left,  and  he 
on  foot ;  only,  in  different  dii'ections,  the  noise  of  the  gal- 
loping of  three  riderless  horses  was  dying  fast  into  the  dis- 
tance. 

All  this  time  not  one  of  the  assailants  had  for  a  moment 
shown  himself.  Here  and  there  along  the  path,  horse  or 
man  rolled,  undespatched,  in  his  agony  ;  but  no  merciful 
enemy  broke  cover  to  put  them  from  their  pain. 

The  solitary  survivor  stood  bewildered  in  the  road  be- 


/ 


70  THE    liLACK    AKKOW. 

side  his  fallen  cliai-ger.  He  liad  come  the  length  of  that 
broad  glade,  with  the  island  of  timber,  pointed  out  by 
Dick.  He  was  not,  perhaps,  five  hundred  yards  from 
where  the  boys  lay  hidden  ;  and  they  could  see  him 
plainly,  looking  to  and  fro  in  deadly  expectatioD.  But 
nothing  came  ;  and  the  man  began  to  pluck  up  his  cour- 
a^e,  and  suddenly  unslung  and  bent  his  bow.  At  the  same 
time,  by  something  in  his  action,  Dick  recognized  Selden. 

At  this  offer  of  resistance,  from  all  about  him  in  the 
covert  of  the  woods  there  ^ent  up  the  sound  of  laughter. 
A  score  of  men,  at  least,  for  this  was  the  very  thickest  of 
the  ambush,  joined  in  this  cruel  and  untimely  mirth. 
Then  an  arrow  glanced  over  Selden's  shoulder ;  and  he 
leaped  and  ran  a  little  back.  Another  dart  struck  quiver- 
ing at  his  heel.  He  made  for  the  cover.  A  third  shaft 
leaped  out  right  in  his  face,  and  fell  short  in  front  of  him. 
And  then  the  laughter  was  repeated  loudly,  rising  and  re- 
echoing from  different  thickets. 

It  was  plain  that  his  assailants  were  but  baiting  him,  as 
men,  in  those  days,  baited  the  poor  bull,  or  as  the  cat 
still  trifles  with  the  mouse.  The  skirmish  was  well  over  ; 
farther  down  the  road,  a  fellow  in  green  was  already 
calmly  gathering  the  arrows  ;  and  now,  in  the  evil  pleas- 
ure of  their  hearts,  they  gave  themselves  the  spectacle  of 
their  poor  fellow-sinner  in  his  torture. 

Selden  began  to  understand  ;  he  uttered  a  roar  of  anger, 
shouldered  his  cross-bow,  and  sent  a  quarrel  at  a  ven- 
ture  into  the  wood.     Chance  favoured  him,  for  a  slight 


"bloody  as  the  htxter."  71 

cry  respouded.  Then,  throwing  down  his  weapon,  Selden 
began  to  run  before  him  up  the  glade,  and  almost  in  a 
straight  line  for  Dick  and  Matcham. 

The  companions  of  the  Black  Aitow  now  began  to 
shoot  in  earnest.  But  they  were  properly  served  ;  their 
chance  had  past ;  most  of  them  had  now  to  shoot  against 
the  sun  ;  and  Selden,  as  he  ran,  bounded  from  side  to 
side  to  baffle  and  deceive  their  aim.  Best  of  all,  by  turn- 
ing up  the  glade  he  had  defeated  their  preparations  ; 
there  w-ere  no  marksmen  posted  higher  up  than  the  one 
whom  he  had  just  killed  or  wounded  ;  and  the  confusion 
of  the  foresters'  counsels  soon  became  apparent.  A  whistle 
sounded  thrice,  and  then  again  twice.  It  was  repeated 
from  another  quarter.  The  woods  on  either  side  became 
full  of  the  sound  of  people  bursting  through  the  under- 
wood ;  and  a  bewildered  deer  ran  out  into  the  open, 
stood  for  a  second  on  three  feet,  with  nose  in  air,  and 
then  plunged  again  into  the  thicket. 

Selden  still  ran,  bounding ;  ever  and  again  an  arrow 
followed  him,  but  still  would  miss.  It  began  to  appear 
as  if  he  might  escape.  Dick  had  his  bow  armed,  ready  to 
support  him  ;  even  Matcham,  forgetful  of  his  interest, 
took  sides  at  heart  for  the  poor  fugitive  ;  and  both  lads 
glowed  and  trembled  in  the  ardour  of  their  hearts. 

He  was  within  fifty  yards  of  them,  when  an  arrow 
struck  him  and  he  fell.  He  was  up  again,  indeed,  upon 
the  instant  ;  but  now  he  ran  staggering,  and,  like  a  blind 
man,  turned  aside  fi'om  his  direction. 


72  THE    BLACK    ARKOW. 

Dick  leaped  to  his  feet  and  waved  to  him. 

"Here!  "he  cried.  "This  way!  here  is  help!  Nay, 
run,  fellow — run  !  " 

But  just  then  a  second  arrow  struck  Selden  in  the  shoul- 
der, between  the  plates  of  his  brigandine,  and,  piercing 
through  his  jack,  brought  him,  like  a  stone,  to  earth. 

"O,  the  j)oor  heart!"  cried  Matcham,  with  clasped 
hands. 

And  Dick  stood  petrified  upon  the  hill,  a  mark  for 
archery. 

Ten  to  one  he  had  speedily  been  shot — for  the  foresters 
were  furious  with  themselves,  and  taken  unawares  by 
Dick's  appearance  in  the  rear  of  their  position — but  in- 
stantlj^  out  of  a  quarter  of  the  wood  surprisingly  near  to 
the  two  lads,  a  stentorian  voice  arose,  the  voice  of  Ellis 
Duckworth. 

"  Hold  !  "  it  roared.  "  Shoot  not !  Take  him  ahve  I 
It  is  young  Shelton — Harry's  son." 

And  immediately  after  a  shrill  whistle  sounded  several 
times,  and  was  again  taken  up  and  repeated  farther  off. 
The  whistle,  it  appeared,  was  John  Amend- All's  battle 
trumpet,  by  which  he  published  his  directions. 

"  Ah,  foul  fortune  !  "  cried  Dick.  "  We  are  undone. 
Swiftly,  Jack,  come  swiftly  !  " 

And  the  pair  turned  and  ran  back  through  the  open 
pine  clump  that  covered  the  summit  of  the  hill. 


73 


CHAPTEE  VL 

TO     THE     day's     end. 

It  was,  indeed,  high  time  for  them  to  run.  On  every 
side  the  company  of  the  Black  Arrow  was  making  for  the 
hill.  Some,  being  better  runners,  or  ha\ing  open  gi-ound 
to  run  upon,  had  far  outstripped  the  others,  and  were  al- 
ready close  upon  the  goal  ;  some,  folloNving  valleys,  had 
spread  out  to  right  and  left,  and  outflanked  the  lads  on 
either  side. 

Dick  plunged  into  the  nearest  cover.  It  was  a  tall 
grove  of  oaks,  firm  under  foot  and  clear  of  underbrush, 
and  as  it  lay  down  hill,  they  made  good  speed.  There 
followed  next  a  piece  of  open,  which  Dick'  avoided,  hold- 
ing to  his  left.  Two  minutes  after,  and  the  same  obstacle 
arising,  the  lads  followed  the  same  course.  Thus  it  fol- 
lowed that,  while  the  lads,  bending  continually  to  the  left, 
drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  high  road  and  the  river 
which  they  had  crossed  an  hour  or  two  before,  the  great 
bulk  of  their  pursuers  were  leaning  to  the  other  hand,  and 
running  towards  Tunstall. 

The  lads  paused  to  breathe.  There  was  no  sound  of 
pursuit  Dick  put  his  ear  to  the  ground,  and  still  there 
was  nothing  ;  but  the  wind,  to  be  sure,  still  made  a  tur- 
moil in  the  trees,  and  it  was  hard  to  make  certain. 

*'  On  again,"  said  Dick  ;  and,  tired  as  they  were,  and 


74  THE    CLACK    ARROW. 

Matcham  limping  with  his  injured  foot,  they  pulled  them- 
selves together,  and  once  more  pelted  down  the  hill. 

Three  minutes  later,  they  were  breasting  through  a  low 
thicket  of  evergreen.  High  overhead,  the  tall  trees  made 
a  continuous  roof  of  foliage.  It  was  a  pillared  grove,  as 
high  as  a  cathedral,  and  except  for  the  hollies  among 
which  the  lads  were  struggling,  open  and  smoothly 
swarded. 

On  the  other  side,  pushing  through  the  last  fringe  of 
evergreen,  they  blundered  forth  again  into  the  open  twi- 
Hght  of  the  grove. 

*'  Stand  !  "  cried  a  voice. 

And  there,  between  the  huge  stems,  not  fifty  feet  be- 
fore them,  they  beheld  a  stout  fellow  in  green,  sore  blown 
with  running,  who  instantly  drew  an  arrow  to  the  head 
and  covered  them.  Matcham  stopped  with  a  cry  ;  but 
Dick,  without  a  pause,  ran  straight  upon  the  forester, 
drawing  his  dagger  as  he  went.  The  other,  whether  he 
was  startled  by  the  daring  of  the  onslaught,  or  whether  he 
was  hampered  by  his  orders,  did  not  shoot ;  he  stood 
wavering  ;  and  before  he  had  time  to  come  to  himself, 
Dick  bounded  at  his  throat,  and  sent  him  sprawling  back- 
ward on  the  turf.  The  arrow  went  one  way  and  the  bow 
another  with  a  sounding  twang.  The  disarmed  forester 
grappled  his  assailant ;  but  the  dagger  shone  and  de- 
scended twice.  Then  came  a  couple  of  groans,  and  then 
Dick  rose  to  his  feet  again,  and  the  man  lay  motionless, 
stabbed  to  the  heart 


TO    THE    day's    EXD.  75 

"  On  !  "  said  Dick  ;  and  he  once  more  pelted  forward, 
Matcham  trailing  in  the  rear.  To  say  truth,  they  made 
but  poor  speed  of  it  by  now,  labouring  dismally  as  they 
ran,  and  catching  for  their  breath  like  fish.  Matcham  had 
a  ciniel  stitch,  and  his  head  swam  ;  and  as  for  Dick,  his 
knees  were  like  lead.  But  they  kept  up  the  form  of  run- 
ning with  undiminished  courage. 

Presently  they  came  to  the  end  of  the  grove.  It  stopped 
abruptly  ;  and  there,  a  few  yards  before  them,  was  the 
high  road  fi^om  Kisingham  to  Shoreby,  lying,  at  this  point, 
between  two  even  walls  of  forest. 

At  the  sight  Dick  paused  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  stopped 
running,  he  became  aware  of  a  confused  noise,  which  rap- 
idly grew  louder.  It  was  at  first  like  the  rush  of  a  very 
high  gust  of  wind,  but  soon  it  became  more  definite,  and 
resolved  itself  into  the  galloping  of  horses ;  and  then,  in 
a  flash,  a  whole  company  of  men-at-arms  came  driving 
round  the  corner,  swept  before  the  lads,  and  were  gone 
again  upon  the  instant.  They  rode  as  for  their  lives,  in 
complete  disorder ;  some  of  them  were  wounded  ;  rider- 
less horses  galloped  at  their  side  with  bloody  saddles. 
They  were  plainly  fugitives  from  the  great  battle. 

The  noise  of  their  passage  had  scarce  begun  to  die  away 
towards  Shoreby,  before  fresh  hoofs  came  echoing  in  their 
wake,  and  another  deserter  clattered  down  the  road  ;  this 
time  a  single  rider  and,  by  his  splendid  armour,  a  man 
of  high  degree.  Close  after  him  there  followed  several 
baggage-waggons,  fleeing  at  an  ungainly  canter,  the  drivers 


76  THE    BLACK   AKROW. 

flailing  at  the  horses  as  if  for  life.  These  must  have  run 
early  in  the  day  ;  but  their  cowardice  was  not  to  save 
them.  For  just  before  they  came  abreast  of  where  the 
lads  stood  wondering,  a  man  in  hacked  armour,  and  seem- 
ingly beside  himself  with  fury,  overtook  the  waggons,  and 
with  the  truncheon  of  a  sword,  began  to  cut  the  drivers 
down.  Some  leaped  from  theu'  places  and  plunged  into 
the  wood  ;  the  others  he  sabred  as  they  sat,  cursing  them 
the  while  for  cowai'ds  in  a  voice  that  was  scarce  human. 

All  this  time  the  noise  in  the  distance  had  continued  to 
increase  ;  the  rumble  of  carts,  the  clatter  of  horses,  the 
cries  of  men,  a  great,  confused  rumour,  came  swelling  on 
the  wind  ;  and  it  was  plain  that  the  rout  of  a  whole  ai'my 
was  poui'ing,  like  an  inundation,  down  the  road. 

Dick  stood  sombre.  He  had  meant  to  follow  the  high- 
way till  the  turn  for  Holywood,  and  now  he  had  to  change 
his  plan.  But  above  all,  he  had  recognized  the  colours  of 
Earl  Risingham,  and  he  knew  that  the  battle  had  gone 
finalty  against  the  rose  of  Lancaster.  Had  Sir  Daniel 
joined,  and  was  he  now  a  fugitive  and  ruined?  or  had  he 
deserted  to  the  side  of  York,  and  was  he  forfeit  to  hon- 
our ?     It  was  an  ugly  choice. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  sternly  ;  and,  turning  on  his  heel,  he 
began  to  walk  forward  thi'ough  the  grove,  with  Matcham 
limping  in  his  rear. 

For  some  time  they  continued  to  thread  the  forest  in 
silence.  It  was  now  growing  late  ;  the  sun  was  setting  in 
the  plain  beyond  Kettley  ;  the  tree-tops  overhead  glowed 


TO    THE    day's    EXD.  71' 

golden  ;  but  the  shadows  had  begun  to  grow  dai'ker  and 
the  chill  of  the  night  to  fall. 

"If  there  were  anything  to  eat!  "  cried  Dick,  suddenly, 
pausing  as  he  spoke. 

Matcham  sat  down  and  began  to  weep. 

"  Ye  can  wee^D  for  your  own  supper,  but  when  it  was  to 
save  men's  lives,  your  heart  was  hai'd  enough/'  said  Dick, 
contemptuously.  "  Y'  'ave  seven  deaths  ujDon  your  con- 
science, Master  John  ;  I"il  ne'er  forgive  you  that." 

"Conscience!"  cried  Matcham,  looking  fiercely  up. 
"  Mine  I  And  ye  have  the  man's  red  blood  upon  your 
dagger  I  And  wherefore  did  ye  slay  him,  the  poor  soul? 
He  drew  his  aiTow,  but  he  let  not  fly  ;  he  held  you  in  his 
hand,  and  spared  you  !  'Tis  as  brave  to  kill  a  kitten,  as  a 
man  that  not  defends  himself." 

Dick  was  struck  dumb. 

•'I  slew  him  fair.     I  ran  me  in  upon  his  bow,"  he  cried. 

"It  was  a  cowai'd  blow,"  returned  Matcham.  "  Y'  are 
but  a  lout  and  bully,  Master  Dick  ;  ye  but  abuse  advan- 
tages ;  let  there  come  a  stronger,  we  will  see  you  truckle 
at  his  boot  !  Ye  care  not  for  vengeance,  neither — for 
your  father's  death  that  goes  unpaid,  and  his  poor  ghost 
that  clamoureth  for  justice.  But  if  there  come  but  a  poor 
creature  in  your  hands  that  lacketh  skill  and  strength, 
and  would  befriend  you,  down  she  shall  go  ! " 

Dick  was  too  fui'ious  to  obseiwe  that  "  she." 

"Manw!"  he  cried,  "and  here  is  news!  Of  any  two 
the  one  will  still  be  stromrer.     The  better  man  throweth 


78  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

the  worse,  and  the  worse  is  well  served.  Ye  deserve  a 
belting,  Master  Matcham,  for  yom-  ill-guidance  and  un- 
thankfulness  to  mewai'd ;  and  what  ye  deserve  ye  shall 
have." 

And  Dick,  who,  even  in  his  angriest  temper,  still  pre- 
served the  apj)earance  of  composure,  began  to  unbuckle 
his  belt. 

"  Here  shall  be  your  supper,"  he  said,  grimly. 

Matcham  had  stopped  his  tears  ;  he  was  as  white  as  a 
sheet,  but  he  looked  Dick  steadily  in  the  face,  and  never 
moved.  Dick  took  a  step,  swinging  the  belt.  Then  he 
paused,  embarrassed  by  the  large  eyes  and  the  thin, 
weary  face  of  his  companion.  His  courage  began  to  sub- 
side. 

"Say  ye  were  in  the  wrong,  then,"  he  said,  lamely. 

"Nay,"  said  Matcham,  "I  was  in  the  right.  Come, 
cruel !  I  be  lame ;  I  be  weary  ;  I  resist  not ;  I  ne'er  did 
thee  hurt ;  come,  beat  me — coward !  " 

Dick  raised  the  belt  at  this  last  provocation  ;  but 
Matcham  winced  and  drew  himself  together  with  so  cruel 
an  apprehension,  that  his  heart  failed  him  yet  again.  The 
strap  fell  by  his  side,  and  he  stood  irresolute,  feeling  like 
a  fool. 

*' A  plague  upon  thee,  shrew  !  "  he  said.  "An  ye  be  so 
feeble  of  hand,  ye  should  keep  the  closer  guard  upon  your 
tongue.  But  I'll  be  hanged  before  I  beat  you  !  "  and  he 
put  on  his  belt  again.  "Beat  you  I  will  not,"  he  con- 
tinued ;  "  but  forgive  you  ? — never.     I  knew  ye  not ;  ye 


TO   THE   DAYS    END.  <  D 

were  my  master's  enemy ;  I  lent  you  my  horse  ;  my  din- 
ner ye  have  eaten ;  y'  'ave  called  me  a  man  o'  wood,  a 
coward,  and  a  bully.  Nay,  .by  the  mass !  the  measure  is 
filled,  and  runneth  over.  "Tis  a  gi-eat  thing  to  be  weak,  I 
trow  :  ye  can  do  youi'  worst,  yet  shall  none  punish  you ; 
ye  may  steal  a  man's  weapons  in  the  hour  of  need,  yet 
may  the  man  not  take  his  own  again  ; — y'  are  weak,  for- 
sooth !  Nay,  then,  if  one  cometh  charging  at  you  with  a 
lance,  and  crieth  he  is  weak,  ye  must  let  him  pierce  your 
body  through  !     Tut  !  fool  words  !  " 

"  And  yet  ye  beat  me  not,"  returned  Matoham. 

"  Let  be,"  said  Dick — "  let  be.  I  wdll  instruct  you.  Y' 
'aye  been  ill- nurtured,  methinks,  and  yet  ye  have  the  mak- 
ings of  some  good,  and,  beyond  all  question,  saved  me 
from  the  river.  Nay,  I  had  forgotten  it  ;  I  am  as  thank- 
less as  thyself.  But,  come,  let  us  on.  An  we  be  for  Holy- 
wood  this  night,  ay,  or  to-moiTOw  early,  we  had  best  set 
forwai'd  speedily." 

But  though  Dick  had  talked  himself  back  into  his  usual 
good-humour,  Matcham  had  forgiven  him  nothing.  His 
violence,  the  recollection  of  the  forester  whom  he  had  slain 
— above  all,  the  vision  of  the  upraised  belt,  were  things 
not  easily  to  be  forgotten. 

"I  will  thank  you,  for  the  form's  sake,"  said  Matcham. 
"But,  in  sooth,  good  Master  Shelton,  I  had  liever  find  my 
way  alone.  Here  is  a  wide  wood  ;  prithee,  let  each 
choose  his  path  ;  I  owe  you  a  dinner  and  a  lesson.  Fare 
ye  well!" 


80  THE    BLACK    AEEOW. 

"Xay."  cried  Dick,  "if  tliat  be  your  tune,  so  be  it,  and 
a  plague  be  with  you  I '' 

Each  turned  aside,  and  they  began  walking  o^'  severally, 
with  no  thought  of  the  dii*ection,  intent  solely  on  their 
quarrel.  But  Dick  had  not  gone  ten  paces  ere  his  name 
was  called,  and  Matcham  came  running  after. 

"Dick,"  he  said,  "it  were  unmannerly  to  part  so  coldly. 
Here  is  my  hand,  and  my  heart  with  it.  For  all  that 
wherein  you  have  so  excellently  served  and  helped  me — 
not  for  the  form,  but  from  the  heart,  I  thank  you.  Fare 
ye  right  well.'"' 

"  "Well,  lad,"  returned  Dick,  taking  the  hand  which  was 
offered  him,  "  good  speed  to  you,  if  speed  you  may.  But 
I  misdoubt  it  shi'ewdly.     Y'  are  too  disputatious." 

So  then  they  separated  for  the  second  time  ;  and  pres- 
ently it  was  Dick  VN'ho  was  running  after  Matcham. 

"  Here,"  he  said,  "  take  my  cross-bow  ;  shalt  not  go  un- 
armed." 

"  A  cross-bow  !  "  said  Matcham.  "  Nay,  boy,  I  have 
neither  the  strength  to  bend  nor  yet  the  skill  to  aim  with 
it.  It  were  no  help  to  me,  good  boy.  But  yet  I  thank 
you." 

The  night  had  now  fallen,  and  under  the  trees  they 
could  no  longer  read  each  other's  face. 

"  I  will  go  some  little  way  with  you,"  said  Dick.  "  The 
night  is  dark.  I  would  fain  leave  you  on  a  path,  at  least. 
My  mind  misgive th  me,  y'  are  likely  to  be  lost." 

Without  any  more  words,  he  began  to  walk  forward,  and 


TO    THE    DAY'S    END.  81 

the  other  once  more  followed  him.  The  blackness  grew 
thicker  and  thicker  ;  only  here  and  there,  in  open  places, 
they  saw  the  sky,  dotted  with  small  stai's.  In  the  distance, 
the  noise  of  the  rout  of  the  Lancastrian  army  still  contin- 
ued to  be  faintly  audible ;  but  with  every  step  they  left  it 
farther  in  the  rear. 

At  the  end  of  haK  an  hour  of  silent  progress  they  came 
forth  upon  a  broad  patch  of  heathy  oj)eu.  It  glimmered 
in  the  light  of  the  stars,  shaggy  with  fern  and  islanded 
with  clumps  of  yew.  And  here  they  paused  and  looked 
upon  each  other. 

"  T'  are  weary  ?  "  Dick  said. 

''Kay,  I  am  so  weary,"  answered  Matcham,  ''that  me- 
thinks  I  could  lie  down  and  die." 

"I  hear  the  chiding  of  a  river,"  returned  Dick.  "Let 
us  go  so  far  forth,  for  I  am  sore  athirst." 

The  ground  sloped  down  gently  ;  and,  sui^e  enough,  in 
the  bottom,  they  found  a  little  murmuring  river,  running 
among  willows.  Here  they  threw  themselves  down  to- 
gether by  the  brink  ;  and  putting  their  mouths  to  the 
level  of  a  stariy  pool,  they  drank  their  fill. 

"Dick,"  said  Matcham,  "it  may  not  be.  I  can  no 
more." 

"  I  saw  a  pit  as  we  came  down,"  said  Dick.  "  Let  us 
lie  down  therein  and  sleep." 

"Nay,  but  with  all  my  heart!  "  cried  Matcham. 

The  pit  was  sandy  and  dry  ;  a  shock  of  brambles  hung 
upon  one  hedge,  and  made  a  partial  shelter  ;  and  there 


82  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

the  two  lads  lay  down,  keeping  close  together  for  the  sake 
of  warmth,  their  quaiTel  all  forgotten.  And  soon  sleep 
fell  upon  them  like  a  cloud,  and  under  the  dew  and  stars 
they  rested  peacefully. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

THE      HOODED      FACE. 


They  awoke  in  the  grey  of  the  morning  ;  the  birds  were 
not  yet  in  full  song,  but  twittered  here  and  there  among 
the  woods ;  the  sun  was  not  yet  up,  but  the  eastern  sky 
was  barred  with  solemn  colours.  Half  starved  and  over- 
weary as  they  were,  they  lay  without  moving,  sunk  in  a  de- 
lightful lassitude.  And  as  they  thus  lay,  the  clang  of  a 
bell  fell  suddenly  upon  their  ears. 

"  A  bell !  "  said  Dick,  sitting  up.  "  Can  we  be,  then,  so 
near  to  Holy  wood  ?  " 

A  little  after,  the  bell  clanged  again,  but  this  time  some- 
what nearer  hand  ;  and  from  that  time  forth,  and  still 
drawing  nearer  and  nearer,  it  continued  to  sound  brokenly 
abroad  in  the  silence  of  the  morning. 

"  Nay,  what  should  this  betoken  ?  "  said  Dick,  who  was 
now  broad  awake. 

"It  is  some  one  walking,"  returned  Matcham,  "and  the 
bell  tolleth  ever  as  he  moves." 

^  I  see  that  well,"  said  Dick.     "But  wherefore  ?    What 


THE    HOOPED    FACE.  83 

maketh  he  in  Tunstall  Woods ?  Jack,"  he  added,  "laugh 
at  me  an  ye  will,  but  I  like  not  the  hollow  sound  of  it." 

"Nay,"  said  Matcham,  with  a  shiver,  "it  hath  a  doleful 
note.     An  the  day  were  not  come  " 

But  just  then  the  bell,  quickening  its  pace,  began  to 
ring  thick  and  hui-ried,  and  then  it  gave  a  single  hammer- 
ing jangle,  and  was  silent  for  a  space. 

"  It  is  as  though  the  bearer  had  run  for  a  pater-noster 
while,  and  then  lea]3ed  the  river, "  Dick  observed. 

"And  now  beginneth  he  again  to  pace  soberly  forward," 
added  Matcham. 

"Nay,"  returned  Dick — "  nay,  not  so  soberly,  Jack. 
'Tis  a  man  that  walketh  you  right  speedily.  'Tis  a  man  in 
some  fear  of  his  life,  or  about  some  hurried  business.  See 
ye  not  how  swift  the  beating  draweth  near  ?  " 

"  It  is  now  close  by,"  said  Matcham. 

They  were  now  on  the  edge  of  the  pit ;  and  as  the  pit 
itself  was  on  a  certain  eminence,  they  commanded  a  view 
over  the  gi-eater  proportion  of  the  dealing,  up  to  the  thick 
woods  that  closed  it  in. 

The  daylight,  which  was  very  clear  and  grey,  showed 
them  a  riband  of  white  footpath  wandering  among  the 
gorse.  ir^passed  some  hundred  yards  from  the  pit,  and 
ran  the  whole  length  of  the  clearing,  east  and  west.  By 
the  line  of  its  course,  Dick  judged  it  should  lead  more  or 
less  directly  to  the  Moat  House. 

Upon  this  path,  stepping  forth  from  the  margin  of  the 
wood,  a  white  figui-e  now  appeared.     It  paused  a  little,  and 


84:  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

seemed  to  look  about ;  and  then,  at  a  slow  pace,  and  bent 
almost  double,  it  began  to  draw  near  across  the  heath. 
At  every  step  the  bell  clanked.  Face,  it  had  none  ;  a 
white  hood,  not  even  pierced  with  eye-holes,  veiled  the 
head  ;  and  as  the  creature  moved,  it  seemed  to  feel  its  way 
with  the  tapping  of  a  stick.  Fear  fell  upon  the  lads,  aa 
cold  as  death. 

"A  leper  !  "  said  Dick,  hoarsely. 

"His  touch  is  death,"  said  Matcham.     "  Let  us  run." 

*'Notso,"  returned  Dick.  "See  ye  not? — he  is  stone 
blind.  He  guideth  him  w^ith  a  staff.  Let  us  lie  still ;  the 
wind  bloweth  towards  the  path,  and  he  will  go  by  and 
hurt  us  not.  Alas,  poor  soul,  and  we  should  rather  pity 
him !  " 

"  I  will  pity  him  when  he  is  by,"  replied  Matcham. 

The  blind  leper  was  now  about  half-way  towards  them, 
and  just  then  the  sun  rose  and  shone  full  on  his  veiled 
face.  He  had  been  a  tall  man  before  he  was  bowed  by 
his  disgusting  sickness,  and  even  now  he  walked  with  a 
vigorous  step.  The  dismal  beating  of  his  bell,  the  patter- 
ing of  the  stick,  the  eyeless  screen  before  his  countenance, 
and  the  knowledge  that  he  was  not  only  doomed  to  death 
and  suffering,  but  shut  out  for  ever  from  the  touch  of  his 
fallow-men,  filled  the  lads'  bosoms  with  dismay  ;  and  at 
every  step  that  brought  him  nearer,  their  coui-age  and 
strength  seemed  to  desert  them. 

As  he  came  about  level  with  the  pit,  he  paused,  and 
turned  his  face  full  upon  the  lads. 


r'^^^isrw%^ 


m' ■ 


''i'Ui:''';j'ii;i!-y:\; 


iiiiii 


f  OFTHE 


THE    HOODED    FACE.  85 

"  Mary  be  my  shield  1  He  sees  us ! '"'  said  Matcliam, 
faintly. 

"Hush!"  whispered  Dick.  "He  doth  but  hearken. 
He  is  bhnd,  fool !  " 

The  leper  looked  or  listened,  whichever  he  was  really 
doing,  for  some  seconds.  Then  he  began  to  move  on 
again,  but  presently  paused  once  more,  and  again  turned 
and  seemed  to  gaze  upon  the  lads.  Even  Dick  became 
dead-white  and  closed  his  eyes,  as  if  by  the  mere  sight  he 
might  become  infected.  But  soon  the  bell  sounded,  and 
this  time,  without  any  farther  hesitation,  the  leper  crossed 
the  remainder  of  the  Httle  heath  and  disappeared  into  the 
covert  of  the  woods. 

"  He  saw  us,"  said  Matcham.     "I  could  swear  it !  " 

*'  Tut !  "  returned  Dick,  recovering  some  sparks  of  cour- 
age. "He  but  heard  us.  He  was  in  fear,  poor  soul! 
An  ye  were  blind,  and  walked  in  a  perpetual  night,  ye 
would  start  yourself,  if  ever  a  twig  rustled  or  a  bird  cried 
*Peep."' 

"Dick,  good  Dick,  he  saw  us,"  repeated  Matcham. 
"  When  a  man  hearkeneth,  he  doth  not  as  this  man  ;  he 
doth  otherwise,  Dick.  This  was  seeing  ;  it  was  not  hear- 
ing. He  means  foully.  Hark,  else,  if  his  bell  be  not 
stopped ! " 

Such  was  the  case.     The  bell  rang  no  longer. 

"Nay,"  said  Dick,  "I  Hke  not  that.  Nay,"  he  cried 
again,  "  I  like  that  little.  What  may  this  betoken  ?  Let 
us  go,  by  the  mass ! " 


86  TKE    BLACK    AKKOW. 

"  He  hath  gone  east,"  added  Matcham.  "  Good  Dick, 
let  us  go  westward  straight,  I  shall  not  breathe  till  I  have 
my  back  turned  upon  that  leper." 

"  Jack,  y'  are  too  cowardly,"  replied  Dick.  "  We  shall 
go  fair  for  Holywood,  or  as  fair,  at  least,  as  I  can  guide 
you,  and  that  will  be  due  north." 

They  were  afoot  at  once,  passed  the  stream  upon  some 
stepping-stones,  and  began  to  mount  on  the  other  side, 
which  was  steeper,  towards  the  margin  of  the  wood.  The 
ground  became  very  uneven,  full  of  knolls  and  hollows  ; 
trees  grew  scattered  or  in  clumps  ;  it  became  difficult  to 
choose  a  path,  and  the  lads  somewhat  wandered.  They 
were  weary,  besides,  with  yesterday's  exertions  and  the 
lack  of  food,  and  they  moved  but  heavily  and  dragged  their 
feet  among  the  sand. 

Presently,  coming  to  the  top  of  a  knoll,  they  were  aware 
of  the  leper,  some  hundred  feet  in  front  of  them,  crossing 
the  line  of  their  march  by  a  hollow.  His  bell  was  silent, 
his  staff  no  longer  tapped  the  ground,  and  he  went  before 
him  with  the  swift  and  assured  footsteps  of  a  man  who 
sees.  Next  moment  he  had  disappeared  into  a  little 
thicket. 

The  lads,  at  the  first  glimpse,  had  crouched  behind  a 
tuft  of  gorse  ;  there  they  lay,  horror-struck. 

"Certain,  he  pursueth  us,"  said  Dick — "certain!  He 
held  the  clapper  of  his  bell  in  one  hand,  saw  ye  ?  that  it 
■  should  not  sound.  Now  may  the  saints  aid  and  guide  us, 
for  I  have  no  strength  to  combat  pestilence  !  " 


THE    HOODED    FACE.  87 

•'  What  maketh  be  ?  "  cried  Matcham.  ^'  ^bat  dotb  he 
Tvant  ?  Who  ever  beard  the  like,  that  a  leper,  out  of  mere 
malice,  should  pursue  unfortunates  ?  Hath  he  not  his  bell 
to  that  very  end,  that  people  may  avoid  him  ?  Dick,  there 
is  below  this  something  deeper." 

'=Xay,  I  care  not,"  moaned  Dick  ;  "the strength  is  gone 
out  of  me  ;  my  legs  are  like  water.  The  saints  be  mine 
assistance ! " 

"Would  ye  lie  there  idle  ?  "  cried  Matcham.  "  Let  us 
back  into  the  open.  We  have  the  better  chance  ;  he  can- 
not steal  upon  us  unawares." 

'■  Not  I,"  said  Dick.  "  My  time  is  come,  and  peradven- 
ture  he  may  pass  us  by." 

"Bend  me,  then,  your  bow  !  "  cried  the  other.  "What! 
will  ye  be  a  man?" 

Dick  crossed  himself.  "Would  ye  have  me  shoot  upon 
a  leper?"  he  cried.  "The  hand  v/ould  fail  me.  Xay, 
now,"  he  added — "  nay,  now,  let  be  !  With  sound  men  I 
will  fight,  but  not  with  ghosts  and  lepers.  Which  this  is, 
I  wot  not.     One  or  other.  Heaven  be  our  protection  ! " 

"Xow,"  said  Matcham,  "if  this  be  man's  courage,  what 
a  poor  thing  is  man  I  But  sith  ye  will  do  naught,  let  us 
lie  close." 

Then  came  a  single,  broken  jangle  on  the  bell. 

"  He  hath  missed  his  hold  upon  the  clapper,"  whispered 
Matcham.     "  Saints  !  how  near  he  is  !  " 

But  Dick  answered  never  a  word  ;  his  teeth  were  near 
chatteriuGf. 


88  THE    BLACK    AEROW. 

Soon  they  saw  a  piece  of  the  white  robe  between  some 
bashes  ;  then  the  leper's  head  was  thrust  forth  from  be- 
hind a  trunk,  and  he  seemed  narrowly  to  scan  the  neigh- 
bourhood before  he  once  again  withdrew.  To  their 
stretched  senses,  the  whole  bush  appeared  alive  with  rust- 
lings and  the  creak  of  twigs  ;  and  they  heard  the  beating 
of  each  other's  heart. 

Suddenly,  with  a  cry,  the  lejDer  sprang  into  the  open 
close  by,  and  ran  straight  upon  the  lads.  They,  shriek- 
ing aloud,  separated  and  began  to  run  different  ways. 
But  thsir  horrible  enemy  fastened  upon  Matcham,  ran 
him  swiftly  down,  and  had  him  almost  instantly  a  prison- 
er. The  lad  gave  one  scream  that  echoed  high  and  far 
over  the  forest,  he  had  one  spasm  of  struggling,  and 
then  all  his  limbs  relaxed,  and  he  fell  limp  into  his  cap- 
tor's arms. 

Dick  heard  the  cry  and  turned.  He  saw  Matcham  fall ; 
and  on  the  instant  his  spirit  and  his  strength  revived. 
With  a  cry  of  pity  and  anger,  he  unslung  and  bent  his 
arblast.  But  ere  he  had  time  to  shoot,  the  leper  held  up 
his  hand. 

''  Hold  your  shot,  Dickon ! "  cried  a  familiar  voice. 
'' Hold  your  shot,  mad  wag  !     Know  ye  not  a  friend?" 

And  then  laying  down  Matcham  on  the  turf,  he  undid 
the  hood  from  off  his  face,  and  disclosed  the  features  of 
Sir  Daniel  Brackley. 

''Sir  Daniel!"  cried  Dick. 

*'Ay,  by  the  mass,  Sir  Daniel!"  returned  the  knight 


THE   HOODED    FACE.  89 

"Would  ye  shoot  upon  your  guardian,  rogue?     But  here 

is  this" And  there  he  broke  off,  and  pointing  to 

Matcham,  asked  :   "  How  call  ye  him,  Dick  ?  " 

*'Nay,"  said  Dick,  "  I  call  him  Master  Matcham.  Know 
ye  him  not  ?     He  said  ye  knew  him  !  " 

"Ay,"  replied  Sir  Daniel,  ''I  know  the  lad;"  and  he 
chuckled.  **But  he  has  fainted;  and,  by  my  sooth,  he 
might  have  had  less  to  faint  for  !  Hey,  Dick  ?  Did  I  put 
the  fear  of  death  upon  you  ?  " 

"Indeed,  Sir  Daniel,  ye  did  that,"  said  Dick,  and  sighed 
again  at  the  mere  recollection.  "Nay,  sir,  saving  your  re- 
spect, I  had  as  lief  'a'  met  the  devil  in  person  ;  and  to 
speak  truth,  I  am  yet  all  a-quake.  But  what  made  ye, 
sir,  in  such  a  guise  ?  " 

Sir  Daniel's  brow  grew  suddenly  black  with  anger. 

"  What  made  1  ?  "  he  said.  "  Ye  do  well  to  mind  me 
of  it !  What  ?  I  skulked  for  my  poor  life  in  my  own 
wood  of  Tunstall,  Dick.  We  were  ill  sped  at  the  battle ; 
we  but  got  there  to  be  swept  among  the  rout.  ^Hiere  be 
all  my  good  men-at-arms?  Dick,  by  the  mass,  I  know 
not !  We  were  swept  down  ;  the  shot  fell  thick  among 
us ;  I  have  not  seen  one  man  in  my  own  colours  since  I 
saw  thi-ee  fall.  For  myself,  I  came  sound  to  Shoreby,  and 
being  mindful  of  the  Black  Arrow,  got  me  this  gown  and 
bell,  and  came  softly  by  the  path  for  the  Moat  House. 
There  is  no  disguise  to  be  compared  with  it ;  the  jingle 
of  this  bell  would  scare  me  the  stoutest  outlaw  in  the  for- 
est ;  they  would  all  turn  pale  to  hear  it.     At  length  I  came 


90  THE    BLACK    ABEOW. 

by  you  and  Matcliaro.  I  could  see  but  evilly  througli  thia 
same  hood,  and  was  not  sure  of  you,  being  chiefly,  and 
for  many  a  good  cause,  astonished  at  the  finding  you  to- 
gether. Moreover,  in  the  open,  where  I  had  to  go  slowly 
and  tap  with  my  staff,  I  feared  to  disclose  myself.  But 
see,"  he  added,  "  this  poor  shrew  begins  a  little  to  revive. 
A  little  good  canary  will  comfort  me  the  heart  of  it." 

The  knight,  from  under  his  long  dress,  produced  a  stout 
bottle,  and  began  to  rub  the  temples  and  wet  the  lips  of 
the  patient,  who  returned  gradually  to  consciousness,  and 
began  to  roll  dim  eyes  from  one  to  another. 

"What  cheer.  Jack!"  said  Dick.  "It  was  no  leper, 
after  all ;  it  was  Sir  Daniel !     See  !  " 

"  Swallow  me  a  good  draught  of  this,"  said  the  knight. 
''This  will  give  you  manhood.  Thereafter,  I  will  give 
you  both  a  meal,  and  we  shall  all  three  on  to  TunstalL 
For,  Dick,"  he  continued,  laying  forth  bread  and  meat 
upon  the  grass,  "I  will  avow  to  you,  in  all  good  con- 
science, it  irks  me  sorely  to  be  safe  between  four  walls. 
Not  since  I  backed  a  horse  have  I  been  pressed  so  hard  ; 
peril  of  life,  jeopardy  of  land  and  livelihood,  and  to  sum 
up,  all  these  losels  in  the  wood  to  hunt  me  down.  But  I 
be  not  yet  shent.  Some  of  my  lads  will  pick  me  their 
way  home.  Hatch  hath  ten  fellows ;  Selden,  he  had  six. 
Nay,  we  shall  soon  be  strong  again ;  and  if  I  can  but  buy 
my  peace  with  my  right  fortunate  and  undeserving  Lord 
of  York,  why,  Dick,  we'll  be  a  man  again  and  go  a-horse- 
back ! " 


THE    HOODED    FACE.  91 

And  so  saying,  the  knight  filled  himself  a  horn  of  ca- 
nary, and  pledged  his  -ward  in  dumb  show. 

"Selden,"    Dick     faltered —"  Selden " And    he 

paused  again. 

Sir  Daniel  put  down  the  wine  untasted. 

"How!"  he  cried,  in  a  changed  voice.  ^'Selden? 
Speak!     ^hatof  Selden?" 

Dick  stammered  forth  the  tale  of  the  ambush  and  the 
massacre. 

The  knight  heard  in  silence  ;  but  as  he  listened,  his 
countenance  became  convulsed  with  rage  and  grief. 

"Now  here,"  he  cried,  "  on  my  right  hand,  I  swear  to 
avenge  it !  If  that  I  fail,  if  that  I  spill  not  ten  men's  souls 
for  each,  may  this  hand  wither  from  my  body  1  I  broke 
this  Duckworth  like  a  rush ;  I  beggared  him  to  his  door  ; 
I  burned  the  thatch  above  his  head  ;  I  drove  him  from 
this  country  ;  and  now,  cometh  he  back  to  beard  me  ? 
Nay,  but,  Duckworth,  this  time  it  shall  go  bitter  hard! " 

He?  was  silent  for  some  time,  his  face  working. 

"Ettt!"  he  cried,  suddenly.  "And  you  here,"  he  add- 
ed to  IMatcham,  "swear  me  an  oath  to  follow  straight  to 
the  Moat  House." 

"I  will  pledge  mine  honour,"  replied  Matcham. 

"What  make  I  with  your  honour?"  cried  the  knight. 
"  Swear  me  upon  your  mother's  welfare  !  " 

Matcham  gave  the  required  oath  ;  and  Sir  Daniel  read- 
justed the  hood  over  his  face,  and  prepared  his  bell  and 
staff.     To  see  him  once  more  in  that  appalhng  travesty 


92  THE    BLACK    ARKOW. 

somewhat  revived  the  horror  of  his  two  companions. 
But  the  knight  was  soon  upon  his  feet. 

'•  Eat  with  despatch,"  he  said,  "  and  follow  me  yarely 
to  mine  house." 

And  with  that  he  set  forth  again  into  the  woods ;  and 
presently  after  the  bell  began  to  sound,  numbering  his 
steps,  and  the  two  lads  sat  by  their  untasted  meal,  and 
heard  it  die  slowly  away  up  hill  into  the  distance. 

"And  so  ye  go  to  Tanstall?  "  Dick  inquired. 

"Yea,  verily,"  said  Matcham,  "when  needs  must!  I 
am  braver  behind  Sir  Daniel's  back  than  to  his  face." 

They  ate  hastily,  and  set  forth  along  the  path  through 
the  airy  upper  levels  of  the  forest,  where  great  beeches 
stood  apart  among  green  lawns,  and  the  birds  and  squir- 
rels made  merry  on  the  boughs.  Two  hours  later,  they 
began  to  descend  upon  the  other  side,  and  already,  among 
the  tree-tops,  saw  before  them  the  red  walls  and  roofs  of 
Tunstall  House. 

"Here,"  said  Matcham,  pausing.  "  ye  shall  take  your 
leave  of  your  friend  Jack,  whom  y'  are  to  see  no  more. 
Come,  Dick,  forgive  him  what  he  did  amiss,  as  he,  for  his 
part,  cheerfully  and  lovingly  forgiveth  you." 

"And  wherefore  so?"  asked  Dick.  "An  we  both  go 
to  Tunstall,  I  shall  see  you  yet  again,  I  trow,  and  that 
right  often." 

"  Ye'll  never  again  see  poor  Jack  Matcham,"  replied  the 
other,  "that  was  so  fearful  and  burthensome,  and  yet 
plucked  you  from   the   river ;   ye'll   not  see   him    more, 


THE    HOODED    FACE.  93 

Dick,  by  mine  honour  !  "  He  held  his  arms  open,  and  the 
lads  embraced  and  kissed.  *'  And,  Dick,"  continued 
Matcham,  "  my  spirit  bodeth  ill.  Y'  are  now  to  see  a  new 
Sir  Daniel  ;  for  heretofore  hath  all  prospered  in  his  hands 
exceedingly,  and  fortune  followed  him  ;  but  now,  methiuks, 
when  his  fate  hath  come  upon  him,  and  he  runs  the  ad- 
venture of  his  life,  he  will  prove  but  a  foul  lord  to  both  of 
us.  He  may  be  brave  in  battle,  but  he  hath  the  liar's  eye  ; 
there  is  fear  in  his  eye,  Dick,  and  fear  is  as  cruel  as  the 
wolf  I  We  go  dovm  into  that  house.  Saint  Mary  guide  ug 
forth  again  I  " 

And  so  they  continued  their  descent  in  silence,  and 
came  out  at  last  before  Sir  Daniel's  forest  stronghold, 
where  it  stood,  low  and  shady,  flanked  with  round  towers 
and  stained  with  moss  and  lichen,  in  the  lilied  waters  of 
the  moat.  Even  as  they  appeared,  the  doors  were  opened, 
the  bridge  lowered,  and  Sir  Daniel  himself,  with  Hatch 
and  the  parson  at  his  side,  stood  ready  to  receive  them. 


BOOK  IL—THE  MOAT  HOUSE, 

CHAPTER  I. 

DICK   ASKS    QUESTIONS. 

The  Moat  House  stood  not  far  from  the  rough  forest 
road.  Externally,  it  was  a  compact  rectangle  of  red  stoue, 
flanked  at  each  corner  by  a  round  tower,  pierced  for  arch- 
ery and  battlemented  at  the  top.  Within,  it  enclosed  a 
narrow  court.  The  moat  was  perhaps  twelve  feet  wide, 
crossed  by  a  single  drawbridge.  It  was  supplied  with 
water  by  a  trench,  leading  to  a  forest  pool  and  com- 
manded, through  its  whole  length,  from  the  battlements 
of  the  two  southern  towers.  Except  that  one  or  two  tall 
and  thick  trees  had  been  suffered  to  remain  within  half  a 
bowshot  of  the  walls,  the  house  was  in  a  good  posture  for 
defence. 

In  the  court,  Dick  found  a  part  of  the  garrison,  busy 
with  preparations  for  defence,  and  gloomily  discussing 
the  chances  of  a  siege.  Some  were  making  arrows,  some 
sharpening  swords  that  had  long  been  disused  ;  but  even 
as  they  worked,  they  shook  their  heads. 

Twelve  of  Sir  Daniel's  party  had  escaped  the  battle, 
run  the  gauntlet  through  the  wood,  and  come  alive  to  the 


DICK    ASKS    QUESTIOXS.  95 

Moat  House.  But  out  of  this  dozen,  thi-ee  had  been 
gravely  wounded  :  two  at  Risingham  in  the  disorder  of  the 
rout,  one  by  John  Amend-All's  marksmen  as  he  crossed 
the  forest.  This  raised  the  force  of  the  garrison,  counting 
Hatch,  Sir  Daniel,  and  young  Shelton,  to  twenty-two  ef- 
fective men.  And  more  might  be  continually  expected  to 
arrive.      The  danger  lay  not  therefore  in  the  lack  of  men. 

It  was  the  terror  of  the  Black  Aitow  that  oppressed  the 
spirits  of  the  garrison.  For  their  open  foes  of  the  party  of 
York,  in  these  most  changing  times,  they  felt  but  a  far- 
away concern.  "'  The  world,"  as  people  said  in  those  days, 
'•  might  change  again  "'  before  harm  came.  But  for  their 
neighbours  in  the  wood,  they  trembled.  It  was  not  Sir 
Daniel  alone  who  was  a  mark  for  hatred.  His  men,  con- 
scious of  impunity,  had  carried  themselves  cruelly  through 
all  the  country.  Harsh  commands  had  been  harshly  ex- 
ecuted ;  and  of  the  little  band  that  now  sat  talkiug  in  the 
court,  there  was  not  one  but  had  been  guilty  of  some  act 
of  oppression  or  barbarity.  And  now,  by  the  fortune  of 
war,  Sir  Daniel  had  become  powerless  to  protect  his  in- 
struments ;  now,  by  the  issue  of  some  hours  of  battle,  at 
which  many  of  them  had  not  been  present,  they  had  all 
become  punishable  traitors  to  the  State,  outside  the  buck- 
ler of  the  law,  a  shrunken  company  in  a  poor  fortress  that 
was  hai'dly  tenable,  and  exposed  upon  all  sides  to  the  just 
resentment  of  their  victims.  Nor  had  there  been  lacking 
grisly  advertisements  of  what  they  might  expect. 

At  different  periods  of  the  evening  and  the  night,  no' 


96  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

fewer  than  seven  riderless  horses  had  come  neighing 
in  teiTor  to  the  gate.  Two  were  from  Selden's  troop  ; 
five  belonged  to  men  who  had  ridden  with  Sir  Daniel  to 
the  field.  Lastly,  a  little  before  dawn,  a  spearman  had 
come  staggering  to  the  moat  side,  pierced  by  three  ar- 
rows ;  even  as  they  carried  him  in,  his  spirit  had  depart- 
ed ;  but  by  the  words  that  he  uttered  in  his  agony,  he 
must  have  been  the  last  survivor  of  a  considerable  com- 
pany of  m^n. 

Hatch  himself  showed,  under  his  sun-brown,  the  pallor 
of  anxiety  ;  and  when  he  had  taken  Dick  aside  and  learned 
the  fate  of  Selden,  he  fell  on  a  stone  bench  and  fairly  wept. 
The  others,  from  where  they  sat  on  stools  or  doorsteps  in 
the  sunny  angle  of  the  court,  looked  at  him  with  wonder 
and  alarm,  but  none  ventured  to  inquire  the  cause  of  his 
emotion. 

"  Nay,  Master  Shelton,"  said  Hatch,  at  last — "  nay,  but 
what  said  I  ?  We  shall  all  go.  Selden  was  a  man  of  his 
hands ;  he  was  like  a  brother  to  me.  Well,  he  has  gone 
second  ;  well,  we  shall  all  follow!  For  what  said  their 
knave  rhyme  ? — '  A  black  an*ow  in  each  black  heart.'  Was 
it  not  so  it  went  ?  Appleyard,  Selden,  Smith,  old  Hum- 
phrey gone  ;  and  there  lieth  poor  John  Carter,  crying,  poor 
sinner,  for  the  priest." 

Dick  gave  ear.  Out  of  a  low  window,  hard  by  where 
they  were  talking,  groans  and  murmurs  came  to  his  ear. 

*' Lieth  he  there  ?"  he  asked. 

"Ay,  in  the  second  porter's  chamber,"  answ^ered  Hatch. 


DICK    ASKS    QrESTIOXS.  97 

"  We  could  not  bear  him  further,  soul  an-l  body  were  so 
bitterly  at  odds.  At  every  step  we  lifted  him.  he  thought 
to  wend.  But  now,  methinks,  it  is  the  soul  that  suffereth. 
Ever  for  the  priest  he  crieth,  and  Sir  OUver,  I  wot  not  why, 
still  cometh  not.  'Twill  be  a  long  shrift  ;  but  poor  Apple- 
yard  and  poor  Selden,  they  had  none." 

Dick  stooped  to  the  window  and  looked  in.  The  little 
cell  was  low  and  dark,  but  he  could  make  out  the  wounded 
soldier  lying  moaning  on  his  pallet. 

"Carter,  poor  friend,  how  goeth  it  ?"  he  asked. 

"Master  Shelton,"  returned  the  man,  in  an  excited 
whisper,  '•'  for  the  dear  light  of  heaven,  bring  the  priest. 
Alack,  I  am  sped  ;  I  am  brought  yery  low  down ;  my  hm-t 
is  to  the  death.  Ye  may  do  me  no  more  service  ;  this  shall 
be  the  last.  Now,  for  my  poor  soul's  interest,  and  as  a 
loyal  gentleman,  bestir  you  ;  for  I  have  that  matter  on  my 
conscience  that  shall  drag  me  deep." 

He  groaned,  and  Dick  heard  the  grating  of  his  teeth, 
whether  in  i)ain  or  terror. 

Just  then  Sir  Daniel  appeared  upon  the  threshold  of  the 
hall.     He  had  a  letter  in  one  hand. 

"Lads,"  he  said,  -'-'we  have  had  a  shog,  we  have  had  a 
tumble  ;  wherefore,  then,  deny  it  ?  Rather  it  imputeth 
to  get  speedily  again  to  saddle.  This  old  Harry  the  Sixt 
has  had  the  undermost.  "Wash  we,  then,  our  hands  of 
him.  I  have  a  goo  1  friend  that  rideth  next  the  duke,  the 
Lord  of  Wensleydale.  Well,  I  have  wi-it  a  letter  to  my 
friend,  praying  his  good  lordship,  and  offering  large  satis- 


98  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

faction  for  the  past  and  reasonable  surety  for  the  future. 
Doubt  not  but  he  will  lend  a  favourable  ear.  A  prayer 
without  gifts  is  like  a  song  without  music  :  I  surfeit  him 
with  promises,  boys— I  spare  not  to  promise.  What,  then, 
is  lacking  ?  Nay,  a  great  thing  —  wherefore  should  I  de- 
ceive you? — a  great  thing  and  a  difficult :  a  messenger  to 
bear  it.  The  woods — y'  are  not  ignorant  of  that — lie 
thick  with  our  ill-willers.  Haste  is  most  needful ;  but 
without  sleight  and  caution  all  is  naught.  Which,  then, 
of  this  company  will  take  me  this  letter,  bear  me  it  to  my 
Lord  of  "Wensleydale,  and  bring  me  the  answer  back  ?  " 

One  man  instantly  arose. 

"I  v/ill,  an't  like  you,"  said  he.  "I  will  even  risk  my 
carcase  " 

"Nay,  Dicky  Bowyer,  not  so,"  returned  the  knight.  '*  It 
likes  me  not.  Y'  are  sly  indeed,  but  not  speedy.  Ye  were 
a  laggard  ever." 

"An't  be  so.  Sir  Daniel,  here  am  I,"  cried  another. 

"  The  saints  forfend  !  "  said  the  knight.  "  Y'  are  speedy, 
but  not  sly.  Ye  would  blunder  me  headforemost  into 
John  Amend-All's  camp.  I  thank  you  both  for  your  good 
courage  ;  but,  in  sooth,  it  may  not  be." 

Then  Hatch  offered  himself,  and  he  also  was  refused. 

"I  want  you  here,  good  Bennet ;  y'  are  my  right  hand, 
indeed,"  returned  the  knight ;  and  then  several  coming 
forward  in  a  group.  Sir  Daniel  at  length  selected  one  and 
gave  him  the  letter. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  upon  your  good   speed  and  better 


DICK    ASKS    QUESTIONS.  99 

discretion  we  do  all  depend.  Bring  me  a  good  answer 
back,  and  before  three  weeks,  I  will  have  purged  my  forest 
of  these  vagabonds  that  brave  us  to  our  faces.  But  mark 
it  well,  Throgmorton  :  the  matter  is  not  easy.  Ye  must 
steal  forth  under  night,  and  go  like  a  fox  ;  and  how  ye 
are  to  cross  Till  I  know  not,  neither  by  the  bridge  nor 
ferry." 

"lean  swim,"  returned  Throgmorton.  "I  will  come 
soundly,  fear  not." 

"  Well,  friend,  get  ye  to  the  buttery,"  re^Dlied  Sir  Daniel. 
"Ye  shall  swim  first  of  all  in  nut-brown  ale."  And  with 
that  he  turned  back  into  the  hall. 

"  Sir  Daniel  hath  a  wise  tongue,"  said  Hatch,  aside,  to 
Dick.  "  See,  now,  where  many  a  lesser  man  had  glossed 
the  matter  over,  he  speaketh  it  out  plainly  to  his  company. 
Here  is  a  danger,  'a  saith,  and  here  difficulty ;  and  jesteth 
in  the  very  saying.  Nay,  by  Saint  Barbary,  he  is  a  born 
captain  !  Not  a  man  but  he  is  some  deal  heartened  up  1 
See  how  they  fall  again  to  work." 

This  praise  of  Sir  Daniel  put  a  thought  in  the  lad's 
head. 

"Bennet,"  he  said,  "how  came  my  father  by  his  end  ?  " 

"Ask  me  not  that,"  replied  Hatch.  "I  had  no  hand 
nor  knowledge  in  it ;  furthermore,  I  will  even  be  silent, 
Master  Dick.  For  look  you,  in  a  man's  own  business  there 
he  may  speak  ;  but  of  hearsay  matters  and  of  common 
talk,  not  so.  Ask  me  Sir  Oliver— ay,  or  Carter,  if  ye  will  ; 
not  me." 


100  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

And  Hatch  set  off  to  make  the  rounds,  leaving  Dick  in 
a  muse. 

"  Wherefore  would  he  not  tell  me  ?  "'  thought  the  lad. 
'^  And  wherefore  named  he  Carter  ?  Carter — nay,  then 
Carter  had  a  hand  in  it,  perchance." 

He  entered  the  house,  and  passing  some  httle  way  along 
a  flagged  and  vaulted  passage,  came  to  the  door  of  the  cell 
where  the  hurt  man  lay  groaning.  At  his  entrance  Carter 
started  eagerly. 

"Have  ye  brought  the  priest?"  he  cried. 

"Not  yet  awhile,"  returned  Dick.  '•' Y'  'ave  a  word  to 
tell  me  first.  How  came  my  father,  Harry  Shelton,  by  his 
death  ?  " 

The  man's  face  altered  instantly. 

'•'I  know  not,"  he  reiDlied,  doggedly. 

"Nay,  ye  know  well,"' returned  Dick.  "Seek  not  to 
put  me  by.' 

"  I  tell  you  I  know  not,"  repeated  Carter. 

*'Then,"  said  Dick,  "ye  shall  die  unshriven.  Here  am 
I,  and  here  shall  stay.  There  shall  no  priest  come  near 
you,  rest  assured.  For  of  what  avail  is  penitence,  an  ye 
have  no  mind  to  right  those  wrongs  ye  had  a  hand  iu  ?  and 
without  penitence,  confession  is  but  mockery." 

"  Ye  say  what  ye  mean  not,  ^Master  Dick,"  said  Carter, 
composedly.  "It  is  ill  threatening  the  dying,  and  becom- 
eth  you  (to  speak  truth)  little.  And  for  as  little  as  it  com- 
mends you,  it  shall  serve  you  less.  Stay,  an  ye  please. 
Ye  will  condemn  my  soul — ye  shall  learn  nothing  !     Ther* 


DICK    ASKS    QUESTIONS.  10 1 

is  my  last  -word  to  you."  And  the  wounded  man  turned 
upon  the  other  side. 

Xow,  Dick,  to  say  truth,  had  spoken  hastily,  and  was 
ashamed  of  his  thi'eat.     But  he  made  one  more  effort. 

"Carter,"  he  said,  "mistake  me  not.  I  know  ye  were 
but  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  others  ;  a  chuii  must 
obey  his  lord  ;  I  would  not  bear  heavily  on  such  an  one. 
But  I  begin  to  learn  upon  many  sides  that  this  great  duty 
lieth  on  my  youth  and  ignorance,  to  avenge  my  father. 
Prithee,  then,  good  Carter,  set  aside  the  memory  of  my 
threatenings,  and  in  pure  goodwill  and  honest  penitence 
give  me  a  word  of  help." 

The  wounded  man  lay  silent ;  nor,  say  what  Dick 
pleased,  could  he  extract  another  word  from  him. 

'•'  Well,"  said  Dick,  "  I  will  go  call  the  priest  to  you  as 
ye  desired  ;  for  howsoever  ye  be  in  fault  to  me  or  mine,  I 
would  not  be  willingly  in  fault  to  any,  least  of  all  to  one 
upon  the  last  change." 

Again  the  old  soldier  heard  him  without  speech  or  mo- 
tion ;  even  liis  groans  he  had  suppressed  ;  and  as  Dick 
turned  and  left  the  room,  he  was  filled  with  admiration 
for  that  rugged  fortitude. 

"And  yet,"  he  thought,  "of  what  use  is  courage  with- 
out wit  ?  Had  his  hands  been  clean,  he  would  have 
spoken  ;  his  silence  did  confess  the  secret  louder  than 
words.  Nay,  upon  ail  sides,  proof  floweth  on  me.  Sir 
Daniel,  he  or  his  men,  hath  done  this  thing." 

Dick  paased  in  the  stone  passage  with  a  heavy  heart. 


102  THE   BLACK    AEEOW. 

At  that  hour,  in  the  ebb  of  Sir  Daniel's  fortune,  when  he 
was  beleaguered  by  the  archers  of  the  Black  Aitow  and 
proscribed  by  the  victorious  Yorkists,  was  Dick,  also,  to 
turn  upon  the  man  w-ho  had  nourished  and  taught  him, 
who  had  severely  punished,  indeed,  but  yet  unwearyingly 
protected  his  youth  ?  The  necessity,  if  it  should  prove  to 
be  one,  was  cruel. 

'''  Pray  Heaven  he  be  innocent !  "  he  said. 

And  then  steps  sounded  on  the  flagging,  and  Sir  Oliver 
came  gravely  towards  the  lad. 

"  One  seeketh  you  earnestly,"  said  Dick. 

"lam  upon  the  way,  good  EicLard,"  said  the  priest. 
"  It  is  this  poor  Carter.     Alack,  he  is  beyond  cure." 

'•■  And  yet  his  soul  is  sicker  than  his  body,"  answered 
Dick. 

"■  Have  ye  seen  him  ?"  asked  Sir  Oliver,  with  a  manifest 
start. 

"I  do  but  come  from  him,"  replied  Dick. 

"What  said  he?  what  said  he?"  snapped  the  priest, 
with  extraordinary  eagerness. 

"  He  but  cried  for  you  the  more  piteously,  Sir  Oliver. 
It  were  well  done  to  go  the  faster,  for  his  hurt  is  griev- 
ous," returned  the  lad. 

"I  am  straight  for  him,"  was  the  reply.  "  Well,  we 
have  all  our  sins.  "We  must  all  come  to  our  latter  day, 
good  Eichard." 

"  Ay,  sir  ;  and  it  were  well  if  we  all  came  fairly,"  au' 
swered  Dick. 


DICK    ASKS    QrKSTIOXS.  103 

The  priest  dropped  his  eyes,  and  vrith  an  inaudible 
benediction  hiuTied  on. 

'-'He,  tool"  thought  Dick — "he,  that  taught  me  in 
piety  !  Nay,  then,  what  a  world  is  this,  if  all  that  care  for 
me  be  blood-guilty  of  my  father's  death  ?  Vengeance  ! 
Alas  1  what  a  sore  fate  is  mine,  if  I  must  be  avenged  upon 
my  friends  I " 

The  thought  put  Matcham  in  his  head.  He  smiled  at 
the  remembrance  of  his  strange  companion,  and  then  won- 
dered where  he  was.  Ever  since  they  had  come  together 
to  the  doors  of  the  Moat  House  the  younger  lad  had  dis- 
appeared, and  Dick  began  to  weaiy  for  a  word  with  him. 

About  an  hour  after,  mass  being  somewhat  hastily  run 
through  by  Sir  OUver,  the  company  gathered  in  the  hall 
for  dinner.  It  was  a  long,  low  apartment,  strewn  with 
green  rushes,  and  the  walls  hung  with  aiTas  in  a  design 
of  savage  men  and  questing  bloodhounds  ;  here  and  there 
hung  spears  and  bows  and  bucklers  ;  a  fire  blazed  in  the 
bit?  chimney  ;  there  were  arras-covered  benches  round 
the  wall,  and  in  the  midst  the  table,  fairly  spread,  awaited 
the  arrival  of  the  diners.  Neither  Sir  Daniel  nor  his  lady 
made  theii'  appearance.  Sir  Oliver  himself  was  absent, 
and  here  again  there  was  no  word  of  Matcham.  Dick  be- 
gan to  grow  alarmed,  to  recall  his  companion's  melan- 
choly forebodings,  and  to  wonder  to  himself  if  any  foul 
play  had  befallen  him  in  that  house. 

After  dinner  he  found  Goody  Hatch,  who  was  hurrying 
to  my  Lady  Brackley. 


104  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"Goody,"  he  said,  "where  is  Master  Matcham,  I 
prithee  ?     I  saw  ye  go  in  with  him  when  we  arrived." 

The  old  woman  laughed  aloud. 

"Ah,  Master  Dick,"  she  said,  "  y'  have  a  famous  bright 
eye  in  your  head,  to  be  sure  !  "  and  laughed  again. 

"  Nay,  but  where  is  he,  indeed  ?  "  persisted  Dick. 

"  Ye  will  never  see  him  more,"  she  returned — •'  never. 
It  is  sure." 

"  xin  I  do  not,"  returned  the  lad,  "  I  will  know  the  rea- 
son why.  He  came  not  hither  of  his  full  free  will ;  such 
as  I  am,  I  am  his  best  protector,  and  I  will  see  him  justly 
used.  There  be  too  many  mysteries  ;  I  do  begin  to  weary 
of  the  game  !  " 

But  as  Dick  was  speaking,  a  heavy  hand  fell  on  hia 
shoulder.  It  was  Bennet  Hatch  that  had  come  unper- 
ceived  behind  him.  With  a  jerk  of  his  thumb,  the  re- 
tainer dismissed  his  wife. 

"  Friend  Dick,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone, 
"  are  ye  a  moon-struck  natui-al  ?  An  ye  leave  not  certain 
things  in  peace,  ye  were  better  in  the  salt  sea  than  here 
in  Tunstall  Moat  House.  Y'  have  questioned  me  ;  y'  have 
baited  Carter  ;  y'  have  frighted  the  jack-priest  with  hints. 
Bear  ye  more  wisely,  fool  ;  and  even  now,  when  Sir  Daniel 
calleth  you,  show  me  a  smooth  face  for  the  love  of  wisdom." 
Y'  are  to  be  sharply  questioned.     Look  to  your  answers." 

"Hatch,"  retui-ned  Dick,  "in  all  this  I  smell  a  guilty 
conscience." 

'"An  ye  go  not  the  wiser,  ye  will  soon  smell  blood,"  re- 


THE    TWO    OATHS.  105 

plied  Bennet.     "  I  do  but  wai-n  you.     And  here  cometh 
one  to  call  you." 

And  indeed,  at  that  very  moment,  a  messenger  came 
across  the  court  to  summon  Dick  into  the  presence  of  Sir 
DanieL 


CHAPTER  IL 

THE     TWO     OATHS. 


Sir  Daniel  was  in  the  hall  ;  there  he  paced  angrily  be- 
fore the  lire,  awaiting  Dick's  ariivaL  None  was  by  except 
Sir  Oliver,  and  he  sat  discreetly  backwai'd,  thumbing  and 
muttering  over  his  breviary. 

"  y  have  sent  for  me,  Sii'  Daniel?  "  said  young  Shelton. 

"I  have  sent  for  you,  indeed,"  replied  the  knight. 
*'For  what  cometh  to  mine  ears?  Have  I  been  to  you  so 
heavy  a  guardian  that  ye  make  haste  to  credit  ill  of  me  ? 
Or  sith  that  ye  see  me,  for  the  nonce,  some  worsted,  do 
ye  think  to  quit  my  party  ?  By  the  mass,  your  father 
was  not  so  I  Those  he  was  near,  those  he  stood  by,  come 
wind  or  weather.  But  you,  Dick,  y'  are  a  fair-day  friend, 
it  seemeth,  and  now  seek  to  clear  yourself  of  your  alle- 
giance." 

''An't  please  you,  Sir  Daniel,  not  so,"  returned  Dick, 
linnly.  "  I  am  grateful  and  faithful,  where  gratitude  and 
faith  are  due.     And  before  more  is  said,  I  thank  vou.  and 


106  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

I  thank  Sir  Oliver  ;  y'  have  great  claims  upon  me  both— 
none  can  have  more  ;  I  vrere  a  hound  if  I  forgot  them." 

"It  is  well,"  said  Sir  Daniel  ;  and  then,  rising  into 
auger:  "Gratitude  and  faith  are  words,  Dick  SheltoD,* 
he  continued  ;  "but  I  look  to  deeds.  In  this  hour  of  my 
peril,  when  my  name  is  attainted,  when  my  lands  are  for- 
feit, when  this  wood  is  full  of  men  that  hunger  and  thirst 
for  my  destruction,  what  doth  gratitude  ?  what  doth 
faith  ?  I  have  but  a  little  company  remaining  ;  is  it 
grateful  or  faithful  to  poison  me  their  hearts  with  your 
insidious  whisperings?  Save  me  from  such  gratitude': 
But,  come,  now,  what  is  it  ye  wish  ?  Speak  ;  we  are  here 
to  answer.  If  ye  have  aught  against  me,  stand  forth  and 
say  it." 

"Sir,''  replied  Dick,  "  my  father  fell  when  I  was  yet  a 
child.  It  hath  come  to  mine  ears  that  he  was  foully  done 
by.  It  hath  come  to  mine  ears — for  I  will  not  dissem- 
ble— that  ye  had  a  hand  in  his  undoing.  And  in  all  ve- 
rity, I  shall  not  be  at  peace  in  mine  own  mind,  nor  very 
clear  to  help  you,  till  I  have  certain  resolution  of  these 
doubts." 

Sir  Daniel  sat  down  iu  a  deep  settle.  He  took  his  chin 
in  his  hand  and  looked  at  Dick  fixedly. 

"  And  ye  thiuk  I  would  be  guardian  to  the  man's  son 
that  I  had  murdered  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Nay,"  said  Dick,  "pardon  me  if  I  answer  churhshly  ; 
but  indeed  ye  know  right  well  a  wardship  is  most  profit- 
able.    All  these  years  have  ye  not  enjoyed  my  revenuea, 


THE    TWO    OATHS.  107 

and  led  mv  men  ?  Have  ve  not  still  my  marriage  ?  I  wot 
not  what  it  miv  be  worth — it  is  worth  something.  Par- 
don me  again  ;  but  if  ye  were  base  enough  to  slay  a  man 
under  trust,  here  were,  perhaps,  reasons  enough  to  move 
you  to  the  lesser  baseness." 

"AVhen  I  was  a  lad  of  your  years,"  returned  Sir  Daniel, 
sternly,  '•'  my  ]uind  had  not  so  turned  upon  suspicions. 
And  Sir  Oliver  here,"  he  added,  "  why  should  he,  a  priest, 
be  guilty  of  this  act  ?  " 

"Nay,  Sir  Daniel,"  said  Dick,  "but  where  the  master 
biddeth  there  will  the  dog  go.  It  is  well  known  this 
priest  is  but  your  instrument.  I  speak  very  freely  ;  the 
tima  is  not  for  courtesies.  Even  as  I  speak,  so  would  I 
be  answered.  And  answer  get  I  none  !  Ye  but  put  more 
questions.  I  rede  ye  be  ware,  Sir  Daniel ;  for  in  this  way 
ye  will  but  nourish  and  not  satisfy  my  doubts." 

"I  will  answer  you  fairly,  Master  Richard,"  said  the 
knight.  "  Were  I  to  pretend  ye  have  not  stirred  my 
wrath,  I  were  no  honest  man.  But  I  will  be  just  even  in 
anger.  Come  to  me  with  these  words  when  y'  are  grown 
and  come  to  man's  estate,  and  I  am  no  longer  your  guard- 
ian, and  so  helpless  to  resent  them.  Come  to  me  then, 
and  I  will  answer  you  as  ye  merit,  with  a  buifet  in  the 
mouth.  Till  then  ye  have  two  courses  :  either  swallow 
me  down  these  insults,  keep  a  silent  tongue,  and  fight  in 
the  meanwhile  for  the  man  that  fed  and  fought  for  your 
infancy  ;  or  else — the  door  stand  eth  open,  the  woods  are 
full  of  mine  enemies — go." 


lOS  THE    BLACK   AKKOW. 

The  spirit  with  which  these  words  were  uttered,  the 
looks  with  which  they  were  accompanied,  staggered  Dick  ; 
and  yet  he  could  not  but  observe  that  he  had  got  no  an- 
swer. 

"  I  desire  nothing  more  earnestly,  Sir  Daniel,  than  to 
believe  you,"  he  replied.  "  Assure  me  ye  are  free  from 
this." 

"  Will  ye  take  my  word  of  honour,  Dick  ?  "  inquired 
the  knight. 

*'  That  would  I,"  answered  the  lad. 

"I  give  it  you,"  returned  Sir  Daniel.  "Upon  my  word 
of  honour,  upon  the  eternal  welfare  of  my  spirit,  and  as  I 
shall  answer  for  my  deeds  hereafter,  I  had  no  hand  nor 
portion  in  your  father's  death." 

He  extended  his  hand,  and  Dick  took  it  eagerly. 
Neither  of  them  observed  the  priest,  who,  at  the  pronun- 
ciation of  that  solemn  and  false  oath,  had  half  arisen  from 
his  seat  in  an  agony  of  horror  and  remorse. 

"  Ah,"  cried  Dick,  "  ye  must  find  it  in  your  great-heart- 
edness  to  pardon  me  !  I  was  a  churl,  indeed,  to  doubt 
of  you.  But  ye  have  my  hand  upon  it  ;  I  will  doubt  no 
more." 

"  Nay,  Dick,"  replied  Sir  Daniel,  "  y'  are  forgiven.  Ye 
know  not  the  world  and  its  calumnious  nature." 

*'  I  was  the  more  to  blame,"  added  Dick,  "  in  that  the 
rogues  pointed,  not  directly  at  yourself,  but  at  Sir  Oliver." 

As  he  spoke,  he  tui'ned  towards  the  priest,  and  paused 
in  the  middle  of  the  last  word.     This  tall,  ruddy,  corpu- 


THE    TWO    OATHS.  109 

lent,  high-stepping  man  had  fallen,  you  might  say,  to 
pieces ;  his  colour  was  gone,  his  limbs  were  relaxed,  his 
lips  stammered  prayers  ;  and  now,  when  Dick's  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  him  suddenly,  he  cried  out  aloud,  like  some 
wild  animal,  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

Sir  Daniel  was  by  him  in  two  strides,  and  shook 
him  fiercely  by  the  shoulder.  At  the  same  moment  Dick's 
suspicions  reawakened. 

"Nay,"  he  said,  "Sir  Oliver  may  swear  also.  'Twas 
him  they  accused." 

"He  shall  swear,"  said  the  knight. 

Sir  Oliver  speechlessly  waved  his  arms. 

"  Ay,  by  the  mass !  but  ye  shall  swear,"  cried  Sir 
Daniel,  beside  himself  with  fury.  "  Here,  upon  this  book, 
ye  shall  swear,"  he  continued,  picking  up  the  breviary, 
which  had  fallen  to  the  ground.  "  What !  Ye  make  me 
doubt  you  !     Swear,  I  say  ;  swear  !  " 

But  the  priest  was  still  incapable  of  speech.  His  terror 
of  Sir  Daniel,  his  terror  of  perjury,  risen  to  about  an 
equal  height,  strangled  him. 

And  just  then,  through  the  high,  stained-glass  window 
of  the  hall,  a  black  aiTow  crashed,  and  struck,  and  stuck 
quivering,  in  the  midst  of  the  long  table. 

Sir  Oliver,  with  a  loud  scream,  fell  fainting  on  the 
rashes  ;  while  the  knight,  followed  by  Dick,  dashed  into 
the  court  and  up  the  nearest  corkscrew  stair  to  the  battle- 
ments. The  sentries  were  all  on  the  alert.  The  sun 
shone  quietly  on  green  lawns  dotted  with  trees,  and  on 


110  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

the  wooded  hills  of  the  forest  which  enclosed  the  view. 
There  was  no  sign  of  a  besieger. 

"  Whence  came  that  shot  ?  "  asked  the  knight, 

"  From  yonder  clump,  Sir  Daniel,"  returned  a  senti" 
nel. 

The  knight  stood  a  little,  musing.  Then  he  turned  to 
Dick.  *'Dick,"  he  said,  "keep  me  an  eye  upon  these  men  ; 
I  leave  you  in  charge  here.  As  for  the  priest,  he  shall 
cleai'  himself,  or  I  will  know  the  reason  why.  I  do  almost 
begin  to  share  in  your  suspicions.  He  shall  swear,  tiiist 
me,  or  we  shall  prove  him  guilty." 

Dick  answered  somewhat  coldly,  and  the  knight,  giving 
him  a  piercing  glance,  hurriedly  returned  to  the  hall. 
His  first  glance  was  for  the  arrow.  It  was  the  first  of 
these  missiles  he  had  seen,  and  as  he  turned  it  to  and  fro, 
the  dark  hue  of  it  touched  him  with  some  fear.  Again 
there  was  some  writing  :  one  word — "  Earthed." 

"Ay,"  he  broke  out,  "they  know  I  am  home,  then. 
Earthed  !  Ay,  but  there  is  not  a  dog  among  them  fit  to 
dig  me  out." 

Sir  Oliver  had  come  to  himself,  and  now  scrambled  to 
his  feet. 

"  Alack,  Sir  Daniel !  "  he  moaned,  "  y'  'ave  sworn  a 
dread  oath  ;  y'  are  doomed  to  the  end  of  time." 

"  Ay,"  returned  the  knight,  "  I  have  sworn  an  oath,  in- 
deed, thou  chucklehead  ;  but  thyself  shalt  sweai'  a  greater. 
It  shall  be  on  the  blessed  cross  of  Holywood.  Look  to 
it ;  get  the  words  ready.     It  shall  be  sworn  to-night." 


THE    TWO    OATHS.  IH 

"  Now,  may  Heaven  lighten  you  !  "  replied  the  priest ; 
"  may  Heaven  incline  your  heart  from  this  iniquity  !  " 

**Look  you,  my  good  father,"  said  Sir  Daniel,  "if  y 
are  for  piety,  I  say  no  more  ;  ye  begin  late,  that  is  all- 
But  if  y'  are  in  any  sense  bent  upon  wisdom,  hear  me. 
This  lad  beginneth  to  irk  me  like  a  wasp.  I  have  a  need 
for  him,  for  I  would  sell  his  marriage.  But  I  tell  you,  in 
all  plainness,  if  that  he  continue  to  weary  me,  he  shall  go 
join  his  father.  I  give  orders  now  to  change  him  to  the 
chamber  above  the  chapel.  If  that  ye  can  swear  your  in- 
nocency  with  a  good,  solid  oath  and  an  assm-ed  counte- 
nance, it  is  well ;  the  lad  will  be  at  peace  a  little,  and  I  will 
spare  him.  If  that  ye  stammer  or  blench,  or  anyways 
boggle  at  the  sweaiing,  he  will  not  believe  you  ;  and 
by  the  mass,  he  shall  die.  There  is  for  your  thinking 
on." 

"  The  chamber  above  the  chapel !  "  gasped  the  priest. 

"That  same,"  replied  the  knight.  "  So  if  ye  desire  to 
save  him,  save  him  ;  and  if  ye  desire  not,  prithee,  go  to, 
and  let  me  be  at  peace  !  For  an  I  had  been  a  hasty  man, 
I  would  already  have  put  my  sword  through  you,  for  your 
intolerable  cowardice  and  folly.    Have  ye  chosen  ?    Say  !  " 

"  I  have  chosen,"  said  the  priest.  "  Heaven  pardon  me, 
I  will  do  evil  for  good.     I  will  swear  for  the  lad's  sake." 

"  So  is  it  best !  "  said  Sir  Daniel.  "  Send  fo^'  him,  then, 
speedily.  Ye  shall  see  him  alone.  Yet  I  shaU  have  an 
eye  on  you.     I  shall  be  here  in  the  panel  room." 

The  knight  raised  the  arras  and  let  it  fall  again  behind 


112  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

him.  There  was  the  sound  of  a  spring  opening ;  then 
followed  the  creaking  of  trod  stairs. 

Sir  Oliver,  left  alone,  cast  a  timorous  glance  upward  at 
the  aiTas-covered  wall,  and  crossed  himself  with  every  ap- 
pearance of  terror  and  contrition. 

"Nay,  if  he  is  in  the  chapel  room,"  the  priest  mur- 
mured, "  were  it  at  my  soul's  cost,  I  must  save  him." 

Three  minutes  later,  Dick,  who  had  been  summoned  by 
another  messenger,  found  Sir  Oliver  standing  by  the  hall 
table,  resolute  and  pale. 

"  Richard  Shelton,"  he  said,  "  ye  have  required  an  oath 
from  me.  I  might  complain,  I  might  deny  you  ;  but  my 
heart  is  moved  toward  you  for  the  past,  and  I  will  even 
content  you  as  ye  choose.  By  the  true  cross  of  Holy- 
wood,  I  did  not  slay  your  father." 

"  Sir  Oliver,"  returned  Dick,  "  when  first  we  read  John 
Amend-All's  paper,  I  was  convinced  of  so  much.  But 
suffer  me  to  put  two  questions.  Ye  did  not  slay  him  ; 
granted.     But  had  ye  no  hand  in  it  ?  " 

"  None,"  said  Sir  Oliver,  And  at  the  same  time  he  be- 
gan to  contort  his  face,  and  signal  with  his  mouth  and 
eyebrows,  hke  one  who  desu'ed  to  convey  a  warning,  yet 
dared  not  utter  a  sound. 

Dick  regarded  him  in  wonder  ;  then  he  turned  and 
looked  all  about  him  at  the  empty  halL 

"  What  make  ye  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Why,  naught,"  returned  the  priest,  hastily  smoothing 
his  countenance.     '•  I  make  naught ;  I  do  but  suffer  ;  J 


THE    TWO    OATHS.  113 

am  sick.  I — I — prithee,  Dick,  I  must  begone.  Ou  the 
time  cross  of  Holywood,  I  am  clean  innocent  ahke  of 
violence  or  treacheiy.  Content  ye,  good  lad.  Fare- 
well !  " 

And  he  made  his  escape  from  the  apartment  \N'ith  un- 
usual alacrity. 

Dick  remained  rooted  to  the  spot,  his  eyes  wandering 
about  the  room,  his  face  a  changing  picture  of  various 
emotions,  wonder,  doubt,  suspicion,  and  amusement. 
Gradually,  as  his  mind  grew  clearer,  suspicion  took  the 
upper  hand,  and  was  succeeded  by  certainty  of  the  worst. 
He  raised  his  head,  and,  as  he  did  so,  violently  started. 
High  upon  the  wall  there  was  the  figure  of  a  savage  hunter 
woven  in  the  tapestry.  With  one  hand  he  held  a  horn  to 
his  mouth  ;  in  the  other  he  brandished  a  stout  spear. 
His  face  was  dark,  for  he  was  meant  to  represent  an 
African. 

Now,  here  was  what  had  startled  Richard  Shelton.  The 
sun  had  moved  away  from  the  hall  windows,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  fire  had  blazed  up  high  on  the  wide  hearth, 
and  shed  a  changeful  glow  upon  the  roof  and  hangings. 
In  this  light  the  figure  of  the  black  hunter  had  winked  at 
him  with  a  white  eyelid. 

He  continued  staring  at  the  eye.  The  light  shone  upon 
it  like  a  gem  ;  it  was  liquid,  it  was  alive.  Again  the  white 
eyelid  closed  upon  it  for  a  fraction  of  a  second,  and  the 
next  moment  it  was  gone. 

There  could  be  no  mistake.     The  live  eye  that  had 


1 14  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

been  watching  him  through  a  hole  in  the  tapestry  waa 
gone.  The  firehght  no  longer  shone  on  a  reflecting 
surface. 

And  instantly  Dick  awoke  to  the  terrors  of  his  position. 
Hatch's  warning,  the  mute  signals  of  the  priest,  this  eye 
that  had  observed  him  from  the  wall,  ran  together  in  his 
mind.  He  saw  he  had  been  put  upon  his  trial,  that  he 
had  once  more  betrayed  his  suspicions,  and  that,  short  of 
some  miracle,  he  was  lost. 

"If  I  cannot  get  me  fortJi  out  of  this  house,"  he 
thought,  "I  am  a  dead  man  !  And  this  poor  Matcham, 
too — to  what  a  cockatrice's  nest  have  I  not  led  him  !  " 

He  was  still  so  thinking,  when  there  came  one  in  haste, 
to  bid  him  help  in  changing  his  arms,  his  clothing,  and 
his  two  or  three  books,  to  a  new  chamber. 

"A  new  chamber?"  he  repeated.  "Wherefore  so? 
What  chamber?" 

"'Tis  one  above  the  chapel,"  answered  the  messenger. 

*'  It  hath  stood  long  empty,"  said  Dick,  musing.  "  What 
manner  of  room  is  it  ?  " 

"Nay,  a  brave  room,"  returned  the  man.  "But  yet" 
— lowering  his  voice — "  they  call  it  haunted." 

"Haunted?"  repeated  Dick,  with  a  chill.  "I  have 
not  heard  of  it.     Nay,  then,  and  by  whom  ?  " 

The  messenger  looked  about  him  ;  and  then,  in  a  low 
whisper,  "  By  the  sacrist  of  St.  John's,"  he  said.  "  They 
had  him  there  to  sleep  one  night,  and  in  the  morniDg— 
whew  ! — he  was  gone.     The  devil  had  taken  him,  the^ 


THE  ROOM  OVEK  THE  CHAPEL.  115 

said ;  the  more  betoken,  he  had  drunk  late  the  night  be- 
fore." 

Dick  followed  the  man  with  black  forebodin^rs. 


CHAPTER  UL 


THE  ROOM  OVER  THE  CHAPEL. 


From  the  battlements  nothing  further  was  observed. 
The  sun  jom-neyed  westward,  and  at  last  went  down ; 
but,  to  the  eyes  of  all  these  eager  sentinels,  no  living 
thing  appeared  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Tunstall  House. 

"When  the  night  was  at  length  fairly  corne,  Throgmor- 
ton  was  led  to  a  room  overlooking  an  angle  of  the  moat. 
Thence  he  was  lowered  with  every  precaution ;  the  ripple 
of  his  swimming  was  audible  for  a  brief  period  ;  then  a 
black  figui^e  was  observed  to  land  by  the  branches  of  a 
willow  and  crawl  away  among  the  grass.  For  some  half 
honr  Sir  Daniel  and  Hatch  stood  eagerly  giving  ear  ;  but 
all  remained  quiet.     The  messenger  had  got  away  in  safety. 

Sir  Daniel's  brow  grew  clearer.     He  turned  to  Hatch. 

"Bennet,"  he  said,  "this  John  Amend- All  is  no  more 
than  a  man,  ye  see.  He  sleepeth.  "We  will  make  a  good 
end  of  him,  go  to  ! " 

All  the  afternoon  and  evening,  Dick  had  been  ordered 
hither  and  thither,  one  command  following  another,  till 
he  was  bewildered  with  the  number  and  the  hurry  of 


IIG  THE    BLACK    ARRO^V. 

commissions.  All  that  time  he  had  seen  no  more  of  Sir 
Oliver,  and  nothing  of  Matcham  ;  and  yet  both  the  priest 
and  the  young  lad  ran  continually  in  his  mind.  It  was 
now  his  chief  purpose  to  escape  from  Tunstall  Moat 
House  as  speedily  as  might  be  ;  and  yet,  before  he  went, 
he  desired  a  word  with  both  of  these. 

At  length,  with  a  lamp  in  one  hand,  he  mounted  to  his 
new  apartment.  It  was  large,  low,  and  somewhat  dark. 
The  window  looked  upon  the  moat,  and  although  it  was 
BO  high  up,  it  was  heavily  barred.  The  bed  was  luxuri- 
ous, with  one  pillow  of  down  and  one  of  lavender,  and  a 
red  coverlet  worked  in  a  pattern  of  roses.  All  about  the 
walls  were  cupboards,  locked  and  padlocked,  and  con- 
cealed from  view  by  hangings  of  dark-coloured  arras. 
Dick  made  the  round,  lifting  the  arras,  sounding  the 
panels,  seeking  vainly  to  open  the  cupboards.  He  as- 
sured himself  that  the  door  was  strong  and  the  bolt  solid  ; 
then  he  set  down  his  lamp  upon  a  bracket,  and  once  more 
looked  all  around. 

For  what  reason  had  he  been  given  this  chamber  ?  It 
was  larger  and  finer  than  his  own.  Could  it  conceal  a 
snare  ?  Was  there  a  secret  entrance  ?  Was  it,  indeed, 
haunted  ?     His  blood  ran  a  little  chilly  in  his  veins. 

Immediately  over  him  the  heavy  foot  of  a  sentry  trod 
the  leads.  Below  him,  he  knew,  was  the  arched  roof  of 
the  chapel ;  and  next  to  the  chapel  was  the  hall.  Cer- 
tainly there  was  a  secret  passage  in  the  hall  ;  the  eye 
that  had  watched  him  from  the  arras  gave  him  i^roof  of 


If  ill  was  intended  he  would  sell  his  life  dear. 


THE  ROOM  OYEK  THE  CHAPEL.  117 

that.  Was  it  not  more  than  probable  that  the  passage 
extended  to  the  chapel,  and,  if  so,  that  it  had  an  opening 
in  his  room  ? 

To  sleep  in  such  a  place,  he  felt,  would  be  foolhardy. 
He  made  his  weapons  ready,  and  took  his  position  in  a 
corner  of  the  room  behind  the  door.  If  ill  was  intended, 
he  would  sell  his  life  dear. 

The  sound  of  many  feet,  the  challenge,  and  the  pass- 
word, soimded  overhead  along  the  battlements  ;  the  watch 
was  being  changed. 

And  just  then  there  came  a  scratching  at  the  door  of 
the  chamber  ;  it  grew  a  little  louder  ;  then  a  whisper  : 

"Dick,  Dick,  it  is  I!" 

Dick  ran  to  the  door,  drew  the  bolt,  and  admitted 
Matcham.  He  was  very  pale,  and  carried  a  lamp  in  one 
hand  and  a  drawn  dagger  in  the  other. 

"Shut  me  the  door,"  he  whispered.  "Swift,  Dick! 
This  house  is  full  of  spies  ;  I  hear  their  feet  follow  me  in 
the  corridors  ;   I  hear  them  breathe  behind  the  arras." 

""Well,  content  you,"  retmmed  Dick,  "  it  is  closed.  TVe 
are  safe  for  this  while,  if  there  be  safety  anywhere  within 
these  walls.  But  my  heart  is  glad  to  see  you.  By  the 
mass,  lad,  I  thought  ye  were  sj^ed  !     Where  hid  ye  ?  " 

"It  matters  not,"  returned  Matcham.  "Since  we  be 
met,  it  matters  not.  But,  Dick,  are  your  eyes  open  ? 
Have  they  told  you  of  to-morrow's  doings?" 

"Not  they,"  rephed  Dick.  "  What  make  they  to-mor< 
row  ?  " 


£18  THE    BLACK    AUROW. 

"  To-morrow,  or  to-night,  I  know  not,"  said  the  other 
"  but  one  time  or  other,  Dick,  they  do  intend  upon  your 
life.     I  had  the  proof  of  it ;  I  have  heard  them  whisper  ; 
nay,  they  as  good  as  told  me." 

"Ay,"  returned  Dick,  "is  it  so?  I  had  thought  aa 
much." 

And  he  told  him  the  day's  occurrences  at  length. 

When  it  was  done,  Matcham  arose  and  began,  in  turn, 
to  examine  the  apartment. 

"No,"  he  said,  "there  is  no  entrance  visible.  Yet 'tis 
a  pure  certainty  there  is  one.  Dick,  I  will  stay  by  you. 
An  y*  are  to  die,  I  will  die  with  you.  And  I  can  help — 
look  !  I  have  stolen  a  dagger— I  will  do  my  best !  And 
meanwhile,  an  ye  know  of  any  issue,  any  sally-port  we 
could  get  opened,  or  any  window  that  we  might  descend 
by,  I  will  most  joyfully  face  any  jeopardy  to  flee  with  you." 

"Jack,"  said  Dick,  "by  the  mass,  Jack,  y'  are  the  best 
soul,  and  the  truest,  and  the  bravest  in  all  England! 
Give  me  your  hand.  Jack." 

And  he  grasped  the  other's  hand  in  silence. 

*'I  will  tell  you,"  he  resumed.  "There  is  a  window, 
out  of  which  the  messenger  descended ;  the  rope  should 
still  bo  in  the  chamber.     'Tis  a  hope." 

"Hist!"  said  Matcham. 

Both  gave  ear.  There  was  a  sound  below  the  floor ; 
then  it  paused,  and  then  began  again. 

"Some  one  walketh  in  the  room  below,"  whispered 
Matcham, 


THE  ROOM  OVER  THE  CHAPEL.  119 

"  Nay,"  returned  Dick,  "  there  is  no  room  below  ;  we 
are  above  the  chapeL  It  is  my  murderer  in  the  secret  pas- 
sage. Well,  let  him  come  ;  it  shall  go  hard  with  him  ; " 
and  he  ground  his  teeth. 

"  Blow  me  the  lights  out,"  said  the  other.  ''  Perchance 
he  will  betray  himself." 

They  blew  out  both  the  lamps  and  lay  still  as  death. 
The  footfalls  underneath  were  very  soft,  but  they  were 
clearly  audible.  Several  times  they  came  and  went  ;  and 
then  there  was  a  loud  jar  of  a  key  turning  in  a  lock,  fol- 
lowed by  a  considerable  silence. 

Presently  the  steps  began  again,  and  then,  all  of  a  sud- 
den, a  chink  of  light  appeared  in  the  planking  of  the  room 
in  a  far  corner.  It  widened ;  a  trap-door  was  being 
opened,  letting  in  a  gush  of  light.  They  could  see  the 
strong  hand  pushing  it  up  ;  and  Dick  raised  his  cross- 
bow, waiting  for  the  head  to  follow. 

But  now  there  came  an  interruption.  From  a  distant 
corner  of  the  Moat  House  shouts  began  to  be  heard,  and 
first  one  voice,  and  then  several,  crying  aloud  upon  a 
name.  This  noise  had  plainly  disconcerted  the  murderer, 
for  the  trap-door  was  silently  lowered  to  its  place,  and  the 
steps  hurriedly  returned,  passed  once  more  close  below 
the  lads,  and  died  away  in  the  distance. 

Here  was  a  moment's  respite.  Dick  breathed  deep,  and 
then,  and  not  till  then,  he  gave  ear  to  the  disturbance 
which  had  inteiTupted  the  attack,  and  which  was  now 
rather  increasing  than  diminishing.     All  about  the  Moat 


120  THE   BLACK   AIJROW. 

House  feet  were  running,  doors  were  opening  and  slam-^ 
ming,  and  still  the  voice  of  Sir  Daniel  towered  above  all 
this  bustle,  shouting  for  "  Joanna." 

"  Joanna  !  "  rej^eated  Dick.  "  Vfhx,  who  the  murrain 
should  this  be  ?  Here  is  no  Joanna,  nor  ever  hath  been. 
What  meaneth  it  ?  " 

Matcham  was  silent.  He  seemed  to  have  di'awn  further 
away.  But  only  a  little  faint  starlight  entered  by  the 
window,  and  at  the  far  end  of  the  apartment,  where  the 
pair  were,  the  darkness  was  complete. 

"Jack,"  said  Dick,  "I  wot  not  where  ye  were  all  day. 
Saw  ye  this  Joanna  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  returned  Matcham,  "  I  saw  her  not." 

"  Nor  heard  tell  of  her  ?  "  he  pursued. 

The  steps  drew  nearer.  Sir  Daniel  was  still  roaring  the 
name  of  Joanna  from  the  courtyard. 

"  Did  ye  hear  of  her  ?  "  repeated  Dick. 

"I  heard  of  her,"  said  Matcham. 

"  How  your  voice  twitters  !  What  aileth  you  ?  "  said 
Dick.  "  'Tis  a  most  excellent  good  fortune,  this  Joanna  ; 
it  will  take  their  minds  from  us." 

"  Dick,"  cried  Matcham,  "  I  am  lost ;  we  are  both  lost. 
Let  us  flee  if  there  be  yet  time.  They  will  not  rest  till 
they  have  found  me.  Or,  see !  let  me  go  forth  ;  when 
they  have  found  me,  ye  may  flee.  Let  me  forth,  Dick — 
good  Dick,  let  me  away  ! " 

She  was  groping  for  the  bolt,  when  Dick  at  last  com- 
prehended. 


THE  KOOM  OVER  THE  CHAPEL.  121 

"By  the  mass!"  he  cried,  "y'  are  no  Jack;  y' are 
Joanna  Sedley ;  y'  are  the  maid  that  would  not  man-y 
me  ! " 

The  gkl  paused,  and  stood  silent  and  motionless.  Dick, 
too,  was  silent  for  a  little ;  then  he  spoke  again. 

'•Joanna,"  he  said,  ''y'  'ave  saved  my  life,  and  I  have 
saved  yours ;  and  we  have  seen  hlood  flow,  and  been 
friends  and  enemies — ay,  and  I  took  my  belt  to  thrash 
you  ;  and  all  that  time  I  thought  ye  were  a  boy.  But  now 
death  has  me,  and  my  time's  out,  and  before  I  die  I  must 
say  this  :  Y'  are  the  best  maid  and  the  bravest  under 
heaven,  and,  if  only  I  could  live,  I  would  maiTy  you 
blithely  ;  and,  live  or  die,  I  love  you." 

She  answered  nothing. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  speak  up.  Jack.  Come,  be  a  good 
maid,  and  say  ye  love  me  !  " 

"  \Yhy,  Dick,"  she  cried,  ''would  I  be  here?  " 

"Well,  see  ye  here," continued  Dick,  "an  we  but  escape 
whole  we'll  marry  ;  and  an  we're  to  die,  we  die,  and  there's 
an  end  on't.  But  now  that  I  think,  how  found  ye  my 
chamber  ?  " 

*'  I  asked  it  of  Dame  Hatch,"  she  answered. 

"Well,  the  dame's  staunch,"  he  answered;  "  she'll  not 
tell  upon  you.     We  have  time  before  us." 

And  just  then,  as  if  to  contradict  his  words,  feet  came 
down  the  corridor,  and  a  fist  beat  roughly  on  the  door. 

"  Here  !  "  cried  a  voice.     "  Open,  Master  Dick  ;  open  !  * 

Dick  neither  moved  nor  answered. 


122  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

**  It  is  all  over,"  said  the  girl  ;  and  she  put  her  arms 
about  Dick's  neck. 

One  after  another,  men  came  trooping  to  the  door. 
Then  Sir  Daniel  arrived  himself,  and  there  was  a  sudden 
cessation  of  the  noise. 

"Dick,"  cried  the  knight,  "be  not  an  ass.  The  Seven 
Sleepers  had  been  awake  ere  now.  "We  know  she  is  within 
there.     Open,  then,  the  door,  man." 

Dick  was  a2:aiu  silent. 

"  Down  with  it,"  said  Sir  Daniel.  And  immediately  his 
followers  fell  savagely  upon  the  door  with  foot  and  fist. 
SoHd  as  it  was,  and  strongly  bolted,  it  would  soon  have 
given  way  ;  but  once  more  fortune  interfered.  Over  the 
thunderstorm  of  blows  the  cry  of  a  sentinel  was  heard  ;  it 
was  followed  by  another  ;  shouts  ran  along  the  battle- 
ments, shouts  answered  out  of  the  wood.  In  the  first  mo- 
ment of  alarm  it  sounded  as  if  the  foresters  were  carrying 
the  Moat  House  by  assault.  And  Sii'  Daniel  and  his  men, 
desisting  instantly  from  theu'  attack  upon  Dick's  chamber, 
hurried  to  defend  the  walls. 

"Now,"  cried  Dick,  "we  are  saved." 

He  seized  the  great  old  bedstead  with  both  hands,  and 
bent  himself  in  vain  to  move  it. 

"Help  me,  Jack.  For  your  life's  sake,  help  me  stoutly  !  '* 
he  cried. 

Between  them,  with  a  huge  effort,  they  dragged  the  big 
frame  of  oak  across  the  room,  and  thrust  it  endwise  to  the 
chamber  door. 


THE  EOOM  OYER  THE  CHAPEL.  123 

"  Ye  do  but  make  things  Tvorse,"  said  Joanna,  sadly. 
"  He  will  then  enter  by  the  trap." 

*'Xot  so,"  repUed  Dick.  "He  durst  not  tell  his  secret 
to  so  many.  It  is  by  the  trap  that  we  shall  flee.  Hark! 
The  attack  is  over.     Xay,  it  was  none  !  " 

It  had,  indeed,  been  no  attack  ;  it  was  the  arrival  of  an- 
other party  of  stragglers  from  the  defeat  of  Eisingham 
that  had  disturbed  Sir  Daniel.  They  had  run  the  gaunt- 
let under  cover  of  the  darkness  ;  they  had  been  admitted 
by  the  great  gate  ;  and  now,  with  a  great  stamping  of 
hoofs  and  jingle  of  accoutrements  and  ai'ms,  they  were 
dismounting  in  the  coiu't. 

"  He  will  retui'n  anon,"  said  Dick.     "  To  the  trap  !  " 

He  lighted  a  lamp,  and  they  went  together  into  the 
corner  of  the  room.  The  open  chink  through  which  some 
light  still  glittered  was  easily  discovered,  and,  taking  a 
stout  sword  from  his  small  armoury,  Dick  thrust  it  deep 
into  the  seam,  and  weighed  strenuously  on  the  hilt.  The 
trap  moved,  gaped  a  little,  and  at  length  came  widely 
open.  Seizing  it  with  their  hands,  the  two  young  folk 
threw  it  back.  It  disclosed  a  few  steps  descending,  and 
at  the  foot  of  them,  where  the  would-be  murderer  had  left 
it,  a  burning  lamp. 

"Now,"  said  Dick,  "  go  first  and  take  the  lamp.  I  will 
follow  to  close  the  trap." 

So  they  descended  one  after  the  other,  and  as  Dick 
lowered  the  trap,  the  blows  began  once  again  to  thunder 
on  the  panels  of  the  door. 


124  THE    BLACK    ARKOW. 


CHAPTER  lY. 


THE    PASSAGE. 


The  passage  in  which  Dick  and  Joanna  now  found 
themselves  was  narrow,  dirty,  and  short.  At  the  other 
end  of  it,  a  door  stood  partly  open  ;  the  same  door,  with- 
out doubt,  that  they  had  heard  the  man  unlocking. 
Heavy  cobwebs  hung  from  the  roof ;  and  the  paved  floor- 
ing echoed  hollow  under  the  lightest  tread. 

Beyond  the  door  there  were  two  branches,  at  right  an- 
gles. Dick  chose  one  of  them  at  random,  and  the  pair 
hurried,  with  echoing  footsteps,  along  the  hollow  of  the 
chapel  roof.  The  top  of  the  arched  ceiling  rose  Hke  a 
whale's  back  in  the  dim  glimmer  of  the  lamp.  Here  and 
there  were  spyholes,  concealed,  on  the  other  side,  by  the 
carving  of  the  cornice  ;  and  looking  down  through  one  of 
these,  Dick  saw  the  paved  floor  of  the  chapel — the  altar, 
with  its  burning  tapers — and  stretched  before  it  on  the 
steps,  the  figure  of  Sir  Oliver  praying  with  uphfted 
hands. 

At  the  other  end,  they  descended  a  few  steps.  The 
passage  grew  narrower  ;  the  wall  upon  one  hand  was  now 
of  wood  ;  the  noise  of  people  talking,  and  a  faint  flicker- 
ing of  lights,  came  through  the  interstices  ;  and  presently 
they  came  to  a  round  hole  about  the  size  of  a  man's  eye, 
and  Dick,  looking  down  through  it,  beheld  the  interior  of 


THE    PASSAGE.  125 

the  hall,  and  some  half  a  dozen  men  sitting,  in  their 
jacks,  about  the  table,  drinking  deep  and  demolishiug  a 
venison  pie.  These  vrere  certainly  some  of  the  late  arri- 
vals. 

"  Here  is  no  help,"  said  Dick.      "  Let  us  trv  back." 

**Nay,"  said  Joanna;  ''maybe  the  passage  goeth  far- 
ther." 

And  she  pushed  on.  But  a  few  yards  farther  the  pas- 
sage ended  at  the  top  of  a  short  flight  of  steps  ;  and  it 
became  plain  that,  as  long  as  the  soldiers  occupied  the 
hall,  escape  was  impossible  upon  that  side. 

They  retraced  their  steps  with  all  imaginable  speed, 
and  set  forward  to  explore  the  other  branch.  It  was  ex- 
ceedingly narrow,  scarce  wide  enough  for  a  large  man  ; 
and  it  led  them  continually  up  and  down  by  little  break- 
neck stairs,  until  even  Dick  had  lost  all  notion  of  his 
whereabouts. 

At  length  it  grew  both  narrower  and  lower  ;  the  stairs 
continued  to  descend  ;  the  walls  on  either  hand  became 
damp  and  slimy  to  the  touch  ;  and  far  in  front  of  them 
they  heard  the  squeaking  and  scuttling  of  the  rats. 

"We  must  be  in  the  dungeons,"  Dick  remarked. 

"And  still  there  is  no  outlet,"  added  Joanna. 

*'  Nay,  but  an  outlet  there  must  be  !  "  Dick  answered. 

Presently,  sure  enough,  they  came  to  a  sharp  angle,  and 
then  the  passage  ended  in  a  flight  of  steps.  On  the  top 
of  that  there  was  a  solid  flag  of  stone  by  way  of  trap,  and 
to  this  they  both  set  their  backs.     It  was  immovable. 


126  THE   BLACK    AKROW. 

"Some  one  bolcleth  it,"  suggested  Joanna. 

"Not  so,"  said  Dick  ;  "for  were  a  man  strong  as  ten,  ^ 
he  must  still  yield  a  little.  But  this  resisteth  like  dead*^' 
rock.  There  is  a  weight  upon  the  trap.  Here  is  no  is- 
sue ;  and,  by  my  sooth,  good  Jack,  we  are  here  as  fairly 
prisoners  as  though  the  gyves  were  on  our  ankle  bones. 
Sit  ye  then  down,  and  let  us  talk.  After  a  while  we  shall 
return,  when  perchance  they  shall  be  less  carefully  upon 
their  guard  ;  and,  who  knoweth  ?  we  may  break  out  and 
stand  a  chance.  But,  in  my  poor  opinion,  we  are  as  good 
as  shent." 

"Dick  !"  she  cried,  "alas  the  day  that  ever  ye  should 
have  seen  me  !  For  like  a  most  unhappy  and  unthankful 
maid,  it  is  I  have  led  you  hither." 

" "What  cheer  !"  returned  Dick.  "It  was  all  written, 
and  that  which  is  written,  willy  nilly,  cometh  still  to  pass. 
But  tell  me  a  little  what  manner  of  a  maid  ye  are,  and 
how  ye  came  into  Sir  Daniel's  hands  ;  that  will  do  better 
than  to  bemoan  yourself,  whether  for  your  sake  or  mine." 

"I  am  an  orphan,  like  yourself,  of  father  and  mother," 
said  Joanna ;  "'  and  for  my  great  misfortune,  Dick,  and 
hitherto  for  yours,  I  am  a  rich  marriage.  My  Lord  Fox- 
ham  had  me  to  ward  ;  yet  it  appears  Sir  Daniel  bought 
the  marriage  of  me  from  the  king,  and  a  right  dear  price 
he  paid  for  it.  So  here  was  I,  poor  babe,  with  two  great 
and  rich  men  fighting  which  should  marry  me,  and  I  still 
at  nurse !  "Well,  then  the  world  changed,  and  there  was  a 
new  chancellor,  and  Sir  Daniel  bought  the  warding  of  me 


THE    PASSAGE.  ll^T 

over  the  Lord  Foxliam's  head.  And  then  the  ^orld 
changed  again,  and  Lord  Foxham  bought  my  marriage 
over  Sii-  Daniel's  ;  and  from  then  to  now  it  vrent  on  ill 
bet^vixt  the  two  of  them.  But  still  Lord  Foxham  kept 
me  in  his  hands,  and  was  a  good  lord  to  me.  And  at  last 
I  was  to  be  married — or  sold,  if  ye  like  it  better.  Five 
hundred  pounds  Lord  Foxham  was  to  get  for  me.  Ham- 
ley  was  the  groom's  name,  and  to-morrow,  Dick,  of  all 
days  in  the  year,  was  I  to  be  betrothed.  Had  it  not 
come  to  Sir  Daniel,  I  had  been  wedded,  sure — and  never 
seen  thee,  Dick — dear  Dick  !  " 

And  here  she  took  his  hand,  and  kissed  it,  with  the 
prettiest  gi-ace  ;  and  Dick  drew  her  hand  to  him  and  did 
the  like. 

"  Well,"  she  tyent  on,  ''Su-  Daniel  took  me  unawares  in 
the  garden,  and  made  me  dress  in  these  men's  clothes, 
which  is  a  deadly  sin  for  a  woman  ;  and,  besides,  they  fit 
me  not.  He  rode  with  me  to  Kettley,  as  ye  saw,  telling 
me  I  was  to  marry  you  ;  but  I,  in  my  hearty  made  sure  I 
would  many  Hamley  in  his  teeth." 

"  Ay  !  "  cried  Dick,  ''  and  so  ye  loved  this  Hamley  !  " 

"Xay,"  replied  Joanna,  "not  I.  I  did  but  hate  Sir 
Daniel.  And  then,  Dick,  ye  helped  me,  and  ye  were  right 
kind,  and  very  bold,  and  my  heart  tuimed  towards  you  in 
mine  own  despite ;  and  now,  if  we  can  in  any  way  com- 
pass it,  I  would  marry  you  with  right  goodwill.  And  if, 
by  ciiiel  destiny,  it  may  not  be,  still  yell  be  dear  to  me 
"While  my  heart  beats,  it'll  be  true  to  you." 


128  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

''And  1,"  said  Dick,  "  that  never  cared  a  straw  for  any 
manner  of  woman  until  now,  I  took  to  you  when  I  thought 
ye  were  a  boy.  I  had  a  pity  to  you,  and  knew  not  why. 
When  I  would  have  belted  you,  the  hand  failed  me.  But 
when  ye  owned  ye  were  a  maid,  Jack — for  still  I  will  call 
you  Jack — I  made  sure  ye  were  the  maid  for  me.  Hark ! " 
he  said,  breaking  off — "one  cometh." 

And  indeed  a  heavy  tread  was  now  audible  in  the  echo- 
ing passage,  and  the  rats  again  fled  in  armies. 

Dick  reconnoitred  his  position.  The  sudden  turn  gave 
him  a  post  of  vantage.  He  could  thus  shoot  in  safety 
from  the  cover  of  the  wall.  But  it  was  plain  the  light  was 
too  near  him,  and,  running  some  way  forward,  he  set 
down  the  lamp  in  the  middle  of  the  passage,  and  then  re- 
turned to  watch. 

Presently,  at  the  far  end  of  the  passage,  Bennet  hove  in 
sight.  He  seemed  to  be  alone,  and  he  carried  in  his  hand 
a  burning  torch,  which  made  him  the  better  mark. 

"  Stand,  Bennet !  "  cried  Dick.  "  Another  step,  and  y» 
are  dead." 

"  So  here  ye  are,"  returned  Hatch,  peering  forward 
into  the  darkness.  "  I  see  you  not.  Aha  !  y'  'ave  done 
wisely,  Dick ;  y'  'ave  put  your  lamp  before  you.  By  my 
sooth,  but,  though  it  was  done  to  shoot  my  own  knave 
body,  I  do  rejoice  to  see  ye  profit  of  my  lessons  !  And 
now,  what  make  ye  ?  what  seek  ye  here  ?  "Why  would  ye 
shoot  upon  an  old,  kind  friend  ?  And  have  ye  the  young 
gentlewoman  there  ?  " 


THE    PASSAGE.  l'2\) 

"Nay,  Bennet,  it  is  I  should  question  and  you  answer," 
replied  Dick.  "  Why  am  I  in  this  jeopardy  of  my  life? 
"Why  do  men  come  privily  to  slay  me  in  my  bed?  Why 
am  I  now  fleeing  in  mine  own  guardian's  strong  house, 
and  from  the  friends  that  I  have  lived  among  and  never 
injured  ?  " 

":^Iaster  Dick,  Master  Dick,"  said  Bennet,  "what  told 
I  you  ?  Y'  are  brave,  but  the  most  uncrafty  lad  that  I  can 
think  upon  ! " 

"Well,"  returned  Dick,  "I  see  ye  know  all,  and  that  I 
am  doomed  indeed.  It  is  well.  Here,  where  I  am,  I  stay. 
Let  Sir  Daniel  get  me  out  if  he  be  able  I '"' 

Hatch  was  silent  for  a  space. 

"Hark  ye,"  he  began,  "I  return  to  Su'  Daniel,  to  tell 
him  where  ye  ai-e,  and  how  posted  ;  for,  in  truth,  it  was 
to  that  end  he  sent  me.  But  you,  if  ye  are  no  fool,  had 
best  be  gone  ere  I  return." 

"Begone  !"  repeated  Dick.  ''I  would  begone  already, 
an'  I  wist  how.     I  cannot  move  the  trap." 

"  Put  me  your  hand  into  the  corner,  and  see  what  ye 
find  there,"  replied  Bennet.  "  Throgmorton's  rope  is  still 
in  the  brown  chamber.     Fare  ye  well." 

And  Hatch,  turning  upon  his  heel,  disappeared  again 
into  the  windings  of  the  passage. 

Dick  instantly  returned  for  his  lamp,  and  proceeded  t-o 
act  upon  the  hint.  At  one  corner  of  the  trap  there  was  a 
deep  cavity  in  the  wall.  Pushing  his  arm  into  the  aper- 
ture. Dick  found  an  iron  bar,  which  he  thrust  vigorously 


13U  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

upwards.     There  followed  a  snapping  noise,  and  the  slab 
of  stone  instantly  started  in  its  bed. 

They  were  free  of  the  passage.  A  little  exercise  of 
strength  easily  raised  the  trap  ;  and  they  came  forth  into 
a  vaulted  chamber,  opening  on  one  hand  upon  the  court, 
where  one  or  two  fellows,  Avith  bare  arms,  were  rubbing 
down  the  horses  of  the  last  arrivals.  A  torch  or  two,  each 
stuck  in  an  iron  ring  against  the  wall,  changefully  lit  up 
the  scene. 


CHAPTER  V. 


HOW    DICK    CHANGED    SIDES. 


Dick,  blowing  out  his  lamp  lest  it  should  attract  atten- 
tion, led  the  way  up-stairs  and  along  the  corridor.  In  the 
brown  chamber  the  rope  had  been  made  fast  to  the  frame 
of  an  exceeding  heavy  and  ancient  bed.  It  had  not 
been  detached,  and  Dick,  taking  the  coil  to  the  window, 
began  to  lower  it  slowly  and  cautiously  into  the  darkness 
of  the  night.  Joan  stood  by  ;  but  as  the  rope  lengthened, 
and  still  Dick  continued  to  pay  it  out,  extreme  fear  began 
to  conquer  her  resolution. 

"  Dick,"  she  said,  "  is  it  so  deep  ?  I  may  not  essay  it. 
I  should  infallibly  fall,  good  Dick." 

It  was  just  at  the  delicate  moment  of  the  operations 
that  she  spoke.     Dick  started ;  the  remainder  of  the  coil 


HOW    DICK    CHANGED    SIDKS.  lol 

slipped  from  his  grasp,  and  the  end  fell  with  a  splash  into 
the  moat.  Instantly,  from  the  battlement  above,  the  voice 
of  a  sentinel  cried,  "  "^Mio  goes  ?  " 

"  A  murrain  !  "  cried  Dick.  "  We  are  paid  now  !  Down 
with  you — take  the  rope." 

"I  cannot,"  she  cried,  recoiling. 

"  An  ye  cannot,  no  more  can  I,"  said  Shelton.  *'  How 
can  I  swim  the  moat  without  you  ?  Do  ye  desert  me, 
then?" 

"  Dick,"  she  gasped,  "  I  cannot.  The  strength  is  gone 
from  me." 

'-■  By  the  mass,  then,  we  are  all  shent ! "  he  shouted, 
stamping  with  his  foot  ;  and  then,  hearing  steps,  he  ran 
to  the  room  door  and  sought  to  close  it. 

Before  he  could  shoot  the  bolt,  strong  arms  were  thrust- 
ing it  back  upon  him  from  the  other  side.  He  struggled 
for  a  second  ;  then,  feeling  himself  overpowered,  ran  back 
to  the  window.  The  girl  had  fallen  against  the  wall  in 
the  embrasui-e  of  the  window;  she  was  more  than  half  in- 
sensible ;  and  when  he  tried  to  raise  her  in  his  arms,  her 
body  was  limp  and  unresponsive. 

At  the  same  moment  the  men  who  had  forced  the  door 
against  him  laid  hold  upon  him.  The  first  he  poniarded 
at  a  blow,  and  the  others  falling  back  for  a  second  in  some 
disorder,  he  profited  by  the  chance,  bestrode  the  window- 
sill,  seized  the  cord  in  both  hands,  and  let  his  body  slip. 

The  cord  was  knotted,  which  made  it  the  easier  to  de- 
scend ;   but  so  furious  was  Dick's  hurrv,   and  so  small 


132  THE    BLACK    ARKOW. 

his  experience  of  such  gymnastics,  that  he  span  round  and 
round  in  mid-air  like  a  criminal  upon  a  gibbet,  and  now 
beat  his  head,  and  now  bruised  his  hands,  against  the 
rugged  stonework  of  the  wall.  The  air  roared  in  his  ears  ; 
he  saw  the  stars  overhead,  and  the  reflected  stars  below 
him  in  the  moat,  whirling  like  dead  leaves  before  the  tem- 
pest. And  then  he  lost  hold,  and  fell,  and  soused  head 
over  ears  into  the  icy  water. 

"When  he  came  to  the  surface  his  hand  encountered  the 
rope,  which,  newly  lightened  of  his  weight,  was  swinging 
wildly  to  and  fro.  There  was  a  red  glow  overhead,  and 
looking  up,  he  saw,  by  the  light  of  several  torches  and  a 
cresset  full  of  burning  coals,  the  battlements  lined  with 
faces.  He  saw  the  men's  eyes  turning  hither  and  thither 
in  quest  of  him  ;  but  he  was  too  far  below,  the  light 
reached  him  not,  and  they  looked  in  vain. 

And  now  he  perceived  that  the  rope  was  considerably 
too  long,  and  he  began  to  struggle  as  well  as  he  could 
towards  the  other  side  of  the  moat,  still  keeping  his  head 
above  water.  In  this  way  he  got  much  more  than  half- 
way over ;  indeed  the  bank  was  almost  within  reach,  be- 
fore the  rope  began  to  draw  him  back  by  its  own  weight. 
Taking  his  courage  in  both  hands,  he  left  go  and  made  a 
leap  for  the  trailing  sprays  of  willow  that  had  already, 
that  same  evening,  helped  Sir  Daniel's  messenger  to  land. 
He  went  down,  rose  again,  sank  a  second  time,  and  then 
his  hand  caught  a  branch,  and  with  the  speed  of  thought 
he  had  dragged  himself  into  the  thick  of  the  tree  and 


He  span  round  and   round  in   mid-air. 


c 


TJFIV 


ALIFORNIA 


HOW    DICK    CHANGED    SIDES.  133 

clung  there,  dripping  and  panting,  and  still  half  uncertain 
of  his  escape. 

But  all  this  had  not  been  done  without  a  considerable 
splashing,  which  had  so  far  indicated  his  position  to  the 
men  along  the  battlements.  Arrows  and  quarrels  fell 
thick  around  him  in  the  darkness,  thick  like  driving  hail ; 
and  suddenly  a  torch  was  thrown  down — flared  through 
the  air  in  its  swift  passage — stuck  for  a  moment  on  the 
edge  of  the  bank,  where  it  burned  high  and  lit  up  its 
whole  surroundings  like  a  bonflre — and  then,  in  a  good 
hour  for  Dick,  slipped  off,  plumped  into  the  moat,  and 
was  instantly  extinguished. 

It  had  served  its  jDurpose.  The  marksmen  had  had 
time  to  see  the  willow,  and  Dick  ensconced  among  its 
boughs ;  and  though  the  lad  instantly  sprang  higher  up 
the  bank,  and  ran  for  his  life,  he  was  yet  not  quick  enough 
to  escape  a  shot.  An  arrow  struck  him  in  the  shoulder, 
another  gi'azed  his  head. 

The  pain  of  his  wounds  lent  him  wings  ;  and  he  had  no 
sooner  got  upon  the  level  than  he  took  to  his  heels  and 
ran  straight  before  him  in  the  dark,  without  a  thought 
for  the  direction  of  his  flight. 

For  a  few  steps  missiles  followed  him,  but  these  soon 
ceased  ;  and  when  at  length  he  came  to  a  halt  and  looked 
behind,  he  was  already  a  good  way  from  the  Moat  House, 
though  he  could  still  see  the  torches  moving  to  and  fro 
along  its  battlements. 

He  leaned  against  a  tree,  streaming  with  blood  and  wa- 


134  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

ter,  bruised,  wounded,  alone,  and  unarmed.  For  all  that, 
he  had  saved  his  life  for  that  bout ;  and  though  Joanna 
remained  behind  in  the  power  of  Sir  Daniel,  he  neither 
blamed  himself  for  an  accident  that  it  had  been  beyond 
his  power  to  prevent,  nor  did  he  augur  any  fatal  conse- 
quences to  the  girl  herself.  Sir  Daniel  was  cruel,  but  he 
was  not  likely  to  be  cruel  to  a  young  gentlewoman  who 
had  other  protectors,  willing  and  able  to  bring  him  to  ac- 
count. It  was  more  j)robable  he  would  make  haste  to 
marry  her  to  some  friend  of  his  own. 

"Well,"  thought  Dick,  "between  then  and  now  I  will 
find  me  the  means  to  bring  that  traitor  under  ;  for  I  think, 
by  the  mass,  that  I  be  now  absolved  from  any  gratitude 
or  obligation  ;  and  when  war  is  open,  there  is  a  fair  chance 
for  all." 

In  the  meanwhile,  here  he  was  in  a  sore  plight. 

For  some  little  way  farther  he  struggled  forward  through 
the  forest  ;  but  what  with  the  pain  of  his  wounds,  the 
darkness  of  the  night,  and  the  extreme  uneasiness  and 
confusion  of  his  mind,  he  soon  became  equally  unable  to 
guide  himself  or  to  continue  to  push  through  the  close 
undergrowth,  and  he  was  fain  at  length  to  sit  down  and 
lean  his  back  against  a  tree. 

When  he  awoke  from  something  betwixt  sleep  and 
swooning,  the  grey  of  the  morning  had  begun  to  take  the 
place  of  night.  A  little  chilly  breeze  was  bustling  among 
the  trees,  and  as  he  still  sat  staring  before  him,  only  half 
awake,  he  became  aware  of  something  dark  that  swung  to 


HOW    DICK    CHANGED    SIDES.  135 

and  fro  among  the  branches,  sorae  hundred  yards  in  front 
of  him.  The  progressive  brightening  of  the  day  and  the  re- 
turn of  his  own  senses  at  last  enabled  him  to  recognize  the 
object.  It  was  a  man  hanging  from  the  bough  of  a  tall  oak. 
His  head  bad  fallen  forward  on  his  breast  ;  but  at  eveiy 
stronger  puff  of  wind  his  body  span  round  and  round,  and 
his  legs  and  arms  tossed,  like  some  ridiculous  plaything. 

Dick  clambered  to  his  feet,  and,  staggering  and  leaning 
on  the  tree-trunks  as  he  went,  drew  near  to  this  gi-im  ob- 
ject. 

The  bough  was  perhaps  twenty  feet  above  the  ground, 
and  the  poor  fellow  had  been  drawn  up  so  high  by  his  ex- 
ecutioners that  his  boots  swung  clear  above  Dick's  reach  ; 
and  as  his  hood  had  been  drawn  over  his  face,  it  was  im- 
possible to  recognize  the  man. 

Dick  looked  about  him  right  and  left  ;  and  at  last  he 
perceived  that  the  other  end  of  the  cord  had  been  made 
fast  to  the  trunk  of  a  little  hawthorn  which  grew,  thick 
with  blossom,  under  the  lofty  arcade  of  the  oak.  "With  his 
dagger,  which  alone  remained  to  him  of  all  his  arms, 
young  Shelton  severed  the  rope,  and  instantly,  with  a  dead 
thump,  the  corpse  fell  in  a  heap  upon  the  ground. 

Dick  raised  the  hood  ;  it  was  Throgmorton,  Sir  Daniel's 
messenger.  He  had  not  gone  far  upon  his  errand.  A 
paper,  which  had  apparently  escaped  the  notice  of  the 
men  of  the  Black  Arrow,  stuck  from  the  bosom  of  hig 
doublet,  and  Dick,  pulhng  it  forth,  found  it  was  Sir  Dan- 
^fcl's  letter  to  Lord  Wenslevdale. 


136  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

"  Come,"  thought  he,  *'  if  the  world  changes  yet  again, 
I  may  have  here  the  wherewithal  to  shame  Sir  Daniel — 
nay,  and  perchance  to  bring  him  to  the  block." 

And  he  put  the  paper  in  his  own  bosom,  said  a  prayer 
over  the  dead  man,  and  set  forth  again  through  the  woods. 

His  fatigue  and  weakness  increased ;  his  ears  sang,  his 
steps  faltered,  his  mind  at  intervals  failed  him,  so  low  had 
he  been  brought  by  loss  of  blood.  Doubtless  he  made 
many  deviations  from  his  true  path,  but  at  last  he  came 
out  uj)on  the  high-road,  not  very  far  from  Tunstall  hamlet. 

A  rough  voice  bid  him  stand. 

"  Stand  ?  "  repeated  Dick.  "  By  the  mass,  but  I  am  near- 
er falling." 

And  he  suited  the  action  to  the  word,  and  fell  all  hif 
length  upon  the  road. 

Two  men  came  forth  out  of  the  thicket,  each  in  greei 
forest  jerkin,  each  with  long-bow  and  quiver  and  shor 
sword. 

"  Why,  Lawless,"  said  the  younger  of  the  two,  '*  it  it 
young  Shelton." 

"  Ay,  this  will  be  as  good  as  bread  to  John  Amend-All," 
returned  the  other.  '*  Though,  faith,  he  hath  been  to  th< 
wars.  Here  is  a  tear  in  his  scalp  that  must  'a'  cost  hin. 
many  a  good  ounce  of  blood." 

"And  here,"  added  Greensheve,  "is  a  hole  in  hii^ 
shoulder  that  must  have  pricked  him  well.  Who  hatl 
done  this,  think  ye  ?  If  it  be  one  of  ours,  he  may  all  tc 
prayer ;  Ellis  will  give  him  a  short  shrift  and  a  long  rope.' 


HOW    DICK    CHANGED    SIDES.  137 

*'  Up  with  the  cub,"  said  Lawless.  "  Clap  him  on  my 
back." 

And  then,  when  Dick  had  been  hoisted  to  his  shoulders, 
and  he  had  taken  the  lad's  arms  about  his  neck,  and  got  a 
firm  hold  of  him,  the  ex-Grey  Friar  added  : 

"  Keep  ye  the  post,  brother  Greensheve.  I  will  on  with 
him  by  myself." 

So  Greensheve  returned  to  his  ambush  on  the  wayside, 
and  Lawless  trudged  down  the  hill,  whistling  as  he  went, 
with  Dick,  still  in  a  dead  faint,  comfortably  settled  on  hia 
shoulders. 

The  sun  rose  as  he  came  out  of  the  skirts  of  the  wood 
and  saw  Tunstall  hamlet  straggling  up  the  opposite  hill 
All  seemed  quiet,  but  a  strong  post  of  some  half  a  score 
of  archers  lay  close  by  the  bridge  on  either  side  of  the 
road,  and,  as  soon  as  they  perceived  Lawless  with  his  bur- 
then, began  to  bestir  themselves  and  set  arrow  to  string 
like  rigilant  sentries. 

"Who  goes?  "  cried  the  man  in  command. 

**  Will  Lawless,  by  the  rood — ye  know  me  as  well 
as  your  own  hand,"  returned  the  outlaw,  contemptu- 
ously. 

"  Give  the  word,  Lawless,"  returned  the  other. 

"Now,  Heaven  lighten  thee,  thou  great  fool,"  replied 
Lawless.  "  Did  I  not  tell  it  thee  myself  ?  But  ye  are  all 
mad  for  this  playing  at  soldiers.  When  I  am  in  the  green- 
wood, give  me  greenwood  ways  ;  and  my  word  for  thia 
tide  is  :  '  A  fig  for  all  mock  soldiery  ! '  " 


138  THE   BLACK   AKROW. 

"  Lawless,  ye  but  show  an  ill  example  ;  give  us  the 
word,  fool  jester,"  said  the  commander  of  the  post. 

"  And  if  I  had  forgotten  it  ?  "  asked  the  other. 

"  An  ye  had  forgotten  it — as  I  know  y'  'ave  not — by  the 
mass,  I  would  clap  an  arrow  into  your  big  body,"  returned 
the  first. 

"Nay,  an  y'  are  so  ill  a  jester,"  said  Lawless,  "ye  shall 
have  your  word  for  me.  *  Duckworth  and  Shelton '  is  the 
word  ;  and  here,  to  the  illustration,  is  Shelton  on  my  shoul- 
ders, and  to  Duckworth  do  I  caiTy  him." 

"Pass,  Lawless,"  said  the  sentry. 

"  And  where  is  John  ?  "  asked  the  Grey  Friar. 

"  He  holdeth  a  court,  by  the  mass,  and  taketh  rents  as 
to  the  manner  born  !  "  cried  another  of  the  company. 

So  it  proved.  When  Lawless  got  as  far  up  the  village 
as  the  little  inn,  he  found  Ellis  Duckworth  surrounded  by 
Sir  Daniel's  tenants,  and,  by  the  right  of  his  good  com- 
pany of  archers,  coolly  taking  rents,  and  giving  written  re- 
ceipts in  return  for  them.  By  the  faces  of  the  tenants,  it 
was  plain  how  little  this  proceeding  pleased  them  ;  for 
they  argued  very  rightly  that  they  would  simply  have  to 
pay  them  twice. 

As  soon  as  he  knew  what  had  brought  Lawless,  Ellis 
dismissed  the  remainder  of  the  tenants,  and,  with  every 
mark  of  interest  and  apprehension,  conducted  Dick  into 
an  inner  chamber  of  the  inn.  There  the  lad's  hurts  were 
looked  to  ;  and  he  was  recalled,  by  simple  remedies,  to 
consciousness. 


HOW   DICK    CHANGED    SIDES.  139 

"Dear  lad,"  said  Ellis,  pressing  his  hand,  "y'  are  in  a 
friend's  hands  that  loved  your  father,  and  loves  you  for  his 
sake.  Rest  ye  a  little  quietly,  for  ye  are  somewhat  out  of 
case.  Then  shall  ye  tell  me  your  story,  and  betwixt  the 
two  of  us  we  shall  find  a  remedy  for  all." 

A  little  later  in  the  day,  and  after  Dick  had  awakened 
from  a  comfortable  slumber  to  find  himself  still  very  weak, 
but  clearer  in  mind  and  easier  in  body,  Ellis  returned,  and 
sitting  down  by  the  bedside,  begged  him,  in  the  name  of 
his  father,  to  relate  the  circumstance  of  his  escape  from 
Tunsta,ll  Moat  House.  There  was  something  in  the 
strength  of  Duckworth's  frame,  in  the  honesty  of  his 
brown  face,  in  the  clearness  and  shrewdness  of  his  eyes, 
that  moved  Dick  to  obey  him  ;  and  from  first  to  last  the 
lad  told  him  the  story  of  his  two  days'  adventures. 

"  Well,"  said  Ellis,  when  he  had  done,  *'  see  what  the 
kind  saints  have  done  for  you,  Dick  Shelton,  not  alone  to 
save  your  body  in  so  numerous  and  deadly  perils,  but  to 
bring  you  into  my  hands  that  have  no  dearer  wish  than  to 
assist  your  father's  son.  Be  but  true  to  me — and  I  see  y* 
are  true — and  betwixt  you  and  me,  we  shall  bring  that 
false-heart  traitor  to  the  death." 

*'  Will  ye  assault  the  house  !  "  asked  Dick 

"I  were  mad,  indeed,  to  think  of  it,"  returned  ElHs. 
"  He  hath  too  much  power  ;  his  men  gather  to  him  ;  those 
that  gave  me  the  slip  last  night,  and  by  the  mass  came  in 
so  handily  for  you — those  have  made  him  safe.  Nay, 
Dick,  to  the  contrary,  thou  and  I  and  my  brave  bowmen, 


140  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

we  must  all  slip  from  this  forest  speedily,  and  leave  Sir 
Daniel  free." 

"My  mind  misgiveth  me  for  Jack,"  said  the  lad. 

"  For  Jack  J  "  repeated  Duckworth.  "  O,  I  see,  for  the 
wench !  Nay,  Dick,  I  promise  you,  if  there  come  talk  of 
any  marriage  we  shall  act  at  once  ;  till  then,  or  till  the 
time  is  ripe,  we  shall  all  disappear,  even  like  shadows  at 
morning  ;  Sir  Daniel  shall  look  east  and  west,  and  see 
none  enemies  ;  he  shall  think,  by  the  mass,  that  he  hath 
dreamed  awhile,  and  hath  now  awakened  in  his  bed.  But 
our  four  eyes,  Dick,  shall  follow  him  right  close,  and  our 
four  hands — so  help  us  all  the  army  of  the  saints  ! — shall 
bring  that  traitor  low  !  " 

Two  days  later  Su-  Daniel's  garrison  had  grown  to  such 
a  strength  that  he  ventured  on  a  sally,  and  at  the  head  of 
some  two  score  horsemen,  pushed  without  opposition  as 
far  as  Tunstall  hamlet.  Not  an  arrow  flew,  not  a  man 
stirred  in  the  thicket ;  the  bridge  was  no  longer  guard- 
ed, but  stood  open  to  all  comers  ;  and  as  Sir  Daniel  cross- 
ed it,  he  saw  the  villagers  looking  timidly  from  their 
doors. 

Presently  one  of  them,  taking  heart  of  grace,  came  for- 
ward, and  with  the  lowliest  salutations,  presented  a  letter 
to  the  knight. 

His  face  darkened  as  he  read  the  contents.  It  ran 
thus : 


HOW    DICK    CHANGED    SIDES.  141 

To  the  most  untrue  and  cruel  gentylman,  Sir  Daniel  Brack- 
ley,  Knyght,  These  : 
I  fynde  ye  were  untrue  and  unkynd  fro  the  first.  Ye 
have  my  father's  blood  upon  your  hands  ;  let  be,  it  will 
not  wasshe.  Some  day  ye  shall  perish  by  my  procure- 
ment, so  much  I  let  you  to  -v^^tte  ;  and  I  let  you  to  wytte 
farther,  that  if  ye  seek  to  wed  to  any  other  the  gentyl- 
woman,  IMistresse  Joan  Sedley,  whom  that  I  am  bound 
upon  a  great  oath  to  wed  myself,  the  blow  will  be  very 
swift.  The  first  step  therinne  will  be  thy  first  step  to 
the  grave.  Ric  Shelton. 


BOOK  IIL—MY  LORD  FOXHAM. 

CHAPTER  L 

THE   HOUSE   BY    THE    SHORE. 

Months  had  passed  away  since  Richard  Shelton  made 
his  escape  from  the  hands  of  his  guardian.  These  months 
had  been  eventful  for  England.  The  party  of  Lancaster, 
which  was  then  in  the  very  article  of  death,  had  once 
more  raised  its  head.  The  Yorkists  defeated  and  dis^ 
persed,  their  leader  butchered  on  the  field,  it  seemed,  for 
a  very  brief  season  in  the  winter  following  upon  the  events 
already  recorded,  as  if  the  House  of  Lancaster  had  finally 
triumphed  over  its  foes. 

The  small  town  of  Shoreby-on-the-Till  was  full  of  the 
Lancastrian  nobles  of  the  neighbourhood.  Earl  Rising- 
ham  was  there,  with  three  hundred  men-at-arms ;  Lord 
Shoreby,  with  two  hundred  ;  Sir  Daniel  himself,  high  in 
favour  and  once  more  growing  rich  on  confiscations 
lay  in  a  house  of  his  own,  on  the  main  street,  with  three- 
score men.     The  world  had  changed  indeed. 

It  was  a  black,  bitter  cold  evening  in  the  first  week  of 
January,  with  a  hard  frost,  a  high  wind,  and  every  likeli* 
hood  of  snow  before  the  morning. 


THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  SHORE.  14o 

In  an  obscure  alehouse  in  a  by-street  near  the  harbour, 
three  or  four  men  sat  drinking  ale  and  eating  a  hasty  mesa 
of  eggs.  They  were  all  likely,  lusty,  weather-beaten  fel- 
lows, hard  of  hand,  bold  of  eye  ;  and  though  they  wore 
plain  tabards,  like  country  ploughmen,  even  a  drunken 
soldier  might  have  looked  twice  before  he  sought  a  quarrel 
in  such  company. 

A  little  apart  before  the  huge  fire  sat  a  younger  man,  al- 
most a  boy,  di'essed  in  much  the  same  fashion,  though  it 
was  easy  to  see  by  his  looks  that  he  was  better  born,  and 
might  have  worn  a  sword,  had  the  time  suited. 

"  Nay,"  said  one  of  the  men  at  the  table,  ''I  like  it  not. 
Ill  will  come  of  it.  This  is  no  place  for  jolly  fellows.  A 
jolly  fellow  loveth  open  country,  good  cover,  and  scarce 
foes  ;  but  here  we  are  shut  in  a  town,  girt  about  with  en- 
emies ;  and,  for  the  bull's-eye  of  misfortune,  see  if  it  snow 
not  ere  the  morning." 

•*  'Tis  for  Master  Shelton  there,"  said  another,  nodding 
his  head  towards  the  lad  before  the  fire. 

*'I  vnR  do  much  for  Master  Shelton,"  returned  the 
first ;  "  but  to  come  to  the  gallows  for  any  man — nay, 
brothers,  not  that ! "  • 

The  door  of  the  inn  opened,  and  another  man  entered 
hastily  and  approached  the  youth  before  the  fire. 

"Master  Shelton,"  he  said,  "Sir  Daniel  goeth  forth 
with  a  pair  of  links  and  four  archers." 

Dick  (for  this  was  our  young  friend)  rose  instantly  to 
his  feet 


144  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"Lawless,"  he  said,  "ye  will  take  John  Capper's  watck 
Greensbeve,  follow  with  me.  Capper,  lead  forward.  "We 
will  follow  him  this  time,  an  he  go  to  York." 

The  next  moment  they  were  outside  in  the  dark  street, 
and  Capper,  the  man  who  had  just  come,  pointed  to 
where  two  torches  flared  in  the  wind  at  a  little  dis- 
tance. 

The  town  was  already  sound  asleep  ;  no  one  moved  up- 
on the  streets,  and  there  was  nothing  easier  than  to  follow 
the  party  without  observation.  The  two  link-bearers  went 
first  ;  next  followed  a  single  man,  whose  long  cloak  blew 
about  him  in  the  wind  ;  and  the  rear  was  brought  up  by 
the  four  archers,  each  with  his  bow  upon  his  arm.  They 
moved  at  a  brisk  walk,  threading  the  intricate  lanes  and 
drawing  nearer  to  the  shore. 

"  He  hath  gone  each  night  in  this  direction  ?  "  asked 
Dick,  in  a  whisper. 

"  This  is  the  third  night  running,  Master  Shelton,"  re- 
turned Capper,  "and  still  at  the  same  hour  and  with  the 
same  small  following,  as  though  his  end  were  secret." 

Sir  Daniel  and  his  six  men  were  now  come  to  the  out- 
skirts of  the  country.  Shoreby  was  an  open  town,  and 
though  the  Lancastrian  lords  who  lay  there  kept  a  strong 
guard  on  the  main  roads,  it  was  still  possible  to  enter  or 
depart  unseen  by  any  of  the  lesser  streets  or  across  the 
open  countiy. 

The  lane  which  Sir  Daniel  had  been  following  came  tcMJj^^ 
an  abrupt  end.     Before  him  there  was  a  stretch  o'  rough 


THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  SHORE.  145 

down,  and  the  noise  of  the  sea-snrf  was  audible  upon  one 
hand.  There  were  no  guards  in  the  neighbourhood,  nor 
any  light  in  that  quarter  of  the  town. 

Dick  and  his  two  outlaws  drew  a  little  closer  to  the 
object  of  their  chase,  and  presently,  as  they  came  forth 
from  between  the  houses  and  could  see  a  little  farther 
upon  either  hand,  they  were  aware  of  another  torch  draw- 
ing near  from  another  direction. 

"  Hey,"'  said  Dick,   "  I  smell  treason." 

Meanwhile,  Sir  Daniel  had  come  to  a  full  halt.  The 
torches  were  stuck  into  the  sand,  and  the  men  lay  down, 
as  if  to  await  the  aiTival  of  the  other  party. 

This  drew  near  at  a  good  rate.  It  consisted  of  four 
men  only — a  pair  of  archers,  a  varlet  with  a  link,  and  a 
cloaked  gentleman  walking  in  their  midst. 

*'  Is  it  you,  my  lord  ?  "  cried  Sir  Daniel. 

*•  It  is  I,  indeed  ;  and  if  ever  true  knight  gave  proof 
I  am  that  man,"  replied  the  leader  of  the  second  troop  ; 
"  for  who  would  not  rather  face  giants,  sorcerers,  or  pa- 
gans, than  this  pinching  cold  ?  " 

*' My  lord,"  returned  Sir  Daniel,  *' beauty  will  be  the 
more  beholden,  misdoubt  it  not.  But  shall  we  forth?  for 
the  sooner  ye  have  seen  my  merchandise,  the  sooner  shall 
we  both  get  home." 

*'  But  why  keep  ye  her  here,  good  knight  ?  "  inquired 

the  other.     *'  An  she  be  so  young,   and  so  fair,   and  so 

wealthy,  why  do  ye  not  bring  her  forth  among  her  mates  ? 

Ye  would  soon  make  her  a  good  marriage,  and  no  need  to 
10 


146  THE    BLACK.   ABROW. 

freeze  your  fingers  and  risk  arrow-shots  by  going  abroad 
at  such  untimely  seasons  in  the  dark." 

"I  have  told  you,  my  lord,"  replied  Sir  Daniel,  "the 
reason  thereof  concerneth  me  only.  Neither  do  I  pur- 
pose to  explain  it  farther.  Suffice  it,  that  if  ye  be  weary 
of  your  old  gossip,  Daniel  Brackley,  publish  it  abroad 
that  y'  are  to  wed  Joanna  Sedley,  and  I  give  you  my  word 
ye  will  be  quit  of  him  right  soon.  Ye  will  find  him  with 
an  arrow  in  his  back." 

Meantime  the  two  gentlemen  were  walking  briskly  for- 
ward over  the  down  ;  the  three  torches  going  before  them, 
stooping  against  the  wind  and  scattering  clouds  of  smoke 
and  tufts  of  flame,  and  the  rear  brought  up  by  the  six 
archers. 

Close  upon  the  heels  of  these,  Dick  followed  He 
had,  of  course,  heard  no  word  of  this  conversation  ; 
but  he  had  recognized  in  the  second  of  the  speakers 
old  Lord  Shoreby  himself,  a  man  of  an  infamous  reputa- 
tion, whom  even  Su'  Daniel  affected,  in  public,  to  con- 
demn. 

Presently  they  came  close  down  upon  the  beach.  The 
air  smelt  salt ;  the  noise  of  the  surf  increased ;  and  here, 
in  a  large  walled  garden,  there  stood  a  small  house  of  two 
storeys,  with  stables  and  other  offices. 

The  foremost  torch-bearer  unlocked  a  door  in  the  wall, 
and  after  the  whole  party  had  passed  into  the  garden, 
again  closed  and  locked  it  on  the  other  side. 

Dick  and  his  men  were  thus  excluded  from  any  farthef 


THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  SHOKE.  147 

following,  unless  they  should  scale  the  v,'a.]l  and  thus  put 
their  ixccks  in  a  trap. 

They  sat  down  in  a  tuft  of  furze  and  waited.  The  red 
glow  of  the  torches  moved  up  and  down  and  to  and  fro 
within  the  enclosui'e,  as  if  the  link  bearers  steadily  pa- 
trolled the  garden. 

Twenty  minutes  passed,  and  then  the  whole  party  issued 
forth  again  upon  the  down  ;  and  Sir  Daniel  and  the 
baron,  after  an  elaborate  salutation,  separated  and  turned 
severally  homeward,  e^ch.  with  his  own  following  of  men 
and  lights. 

As  soon  as  the  sound  of  their  steps  had  been  swallowed 
by  the  wiiid,  Dick  got  U\  his  feet  as  briskly  as  he  was 
able,  for  he  was  stiff  and  aching  with  the  cold. 

*'  Capper,  ye  will  give  mo  a  back  up,"  he  said. 

They  advanced,  all  three,  to  the  wall  ;  Capper  stooped, 
and  Dick,  getting  upon  his  shoulders,  clambered  on  to 
the  cope-stone. 

"Now,  Greensheve,"  whispered  Dick,  **  follow  me  up 
here ;  lie  flat  upon  your  face,  that  ye  may  be  the  less 
seen  ;  and  be  ever  ready  to  give  me  a  hand  if  I  fall  foully 
on  the  other  side." 

And  so  saying,  he  dropped  into  the  garden. 

It  was  all  pitch  dark  ;  there  was  no  light  in  the  house. 
The  wind  whistled  shrill  among  the  poor  shrubs,  and  the 
surf  beat  upon  the  beach  ;  there  was  no  other  sound. 
Cautiously  Dick  footed  it  forth,  stumbling  among  bushes, 
and  groping  -^ith  his  hands ;   and   presently   the   crisp 


14:8  THE    BLACK   ARROW. 

noise  of  gravel  underfoot  told  him  that  he  had  struck 
upon  an  alley. 

Here  he  paused,  and  taking  his  crossbow  from  where 
he  kept  it  concealed  under  his  long  tabard,  he  prepared  it 
for  instant  action,  and  went  forward  once  more  with 
greater  resolution  and  assurance.  The  path  led  him 
straight  to  the  group  of  buildings. 

All  seemed  to  be  sorely  dilapidated  :  the  windows  of 
the  house  were  secured  by  crazy  shutters  ;  the  stables 
were  open  and  empty  ;  there  was  no  hay  in  the  hay-loft, 
no  corn  in  the  corn-box.  Any  one  would  have  supposed 
the  place  to  be  deserted.  But  Dick  had  good  reason  to 
think  otherwise.  He  continued  his  inspection,  visiting 
the  offices,  trying  all  the  windows.  At  length  he  came 
round  to  the  sea-side  of  the  house,  and  there,  sure 
enough,  there  burned  a  pale  light  in  one  of  the  upper 
windows. 

He  stepped  back  a  little  way,  till  he  thought  he  could 
see  the  movement  of  a  shadow  on  the  wall  of  the  apart- 
ment. Then  he  remembered  that,  in  the  stable,  his  grop- 
ing hand  had  rested  for  a  moment  on  a  ladder,  and  he  re- 
turned with  all  despatch  to  bring  it.  The  ladder  was 
very  short,  but  yet,  by  standing  on  the  topmost  round,  he 
could  bring  his  hands  as  high  as  the  iron  bars  of  the  win- 
dow ;  and  seizing  these,  he  raised  his  body  by  main  force 
until  his  eyes  commanded  the  interior  of  the  room. 

Two  persons  were  within  ;  the  first  he  readily  knew  to 
be  Dame  Hatch  ;  the  second,   a   tall  and  beautiful  and 


THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  SHORE.  149 

grave  young  lady,  in  a  long,  embroidered  dress — could 
that  be  Joanna  Sedley  ?  his  old  wood-companion,  Jack, 
whom  he  had  thought  to  punish  with  a  belt  ? 

He  dropped  back  again  to  the  top  round  of  the  ladder  in 
a  kind  of  amazement.  He  had  never  thought  of  his  SM-eet- 
heart  as  of  so  superior  a  being,  and  he  was  instantly  t:ikeu 
with  a  feeling  of  diffidence.  But  he  had  little  opportunity 
for  thought.  A  low  *'Hist  I  "  sounded  from  close  by,  and 
he  hastened  to  descend  the  ladder. 

"  Who  goes  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  Greensheve,"  came  the  reply,  in  tones  similarly 
guarded. 

"  What  want  ye  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"The  house  is  watched,  Master  Shelton,"  returned  the 
outlaw.  "We  are  not  alone  to  watch  it ;  for  even  as  I  lay 
on  my  belly  on  the  wall  I  saw  men  prowling  in  the  dark, 
and  heai'd  them  whistle  softly  one  to  the  other." 

"By  my  sooth,"  said  Dick,  "  but  this  is  passing  strange  ! 
Were  they  not  men  of  Sir  Daniel's  ?  " 

"Nay,  sir,  that  they  were  not,"  returned  Greensheve ; 
"for  if  I  have  eyes  in  my  head,  every  man-Jack  of  them 
weareth  me  a  white  badge  in  his  bonnet,  something 
chequered  with  dark." 

"  White,  chequered  with  dark, "  repeated  Dick.  "  Faith, 
'tis  a  badge  I  know  not.  It  is  none  of  this  country's 
badges.  Well,  an  that  be  so,  let  us  slip  as  quietly  forth 
from  this  garden  as  we  may  ;  for  here  we  are  in  an  evil 
posture  for  defence.     Beyond  all  question  there  are  men 


150  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

of  Sir  Daniel's  in  that  house,  and  to  be  taken  between  two 
shots  is  a  begger man's  position.  Take  me  this  ladder  ;  I 
must  leave  it  where  I  found  it." 

They  returned  the  ladder  to  the  stable,  and  groped  their 
way  to  the  place  where  they  had  entered. 

Capper  had  taken  Greensheve's  position  on  the  cope, 
and  now  he  leaned  down  his  hand,  and,  first  one  and  then 
the  other,  pulled  them  up. 

Cautiously  and  silently,  they  dropped  again  upon  the 
other  side  ;  nor  did  they  dare  to  speak  until  they  had  re- 
turned to  their  old  ambush  in  the  gorse. 

"Now,  John  Capper,"  said  Dick,  "back  with  you  to 
Shoreby,  even  as  for  your  life.  Bring  me  instantly  what 
men  ye  can  collect.  Here  shall  be  the  rendezvous  ;  or  if 
the  men  be  scattered  and  the  day  be  near  at  hand  before 
they  muster,  let  the  place  be  something  farther  back,  and 
by  the  entering  in  of  the  town.  Greensheve  and  I  lie  here 
to  watch.  Speed  ye,  John  Capper,  and  the  saints  aid 
you  to  despatch.  And  now,  Greensheve,"  he  continued, 
as  soon  as  Capper  had  departed,  "let  thou  and  I  go  round 
about  the  garden  in  a  wide  circuit.  I  would  fain  see 
whether  thine  eyes  betrayed  thee." 

Keeping  well  outwards  from  the  wall,  and  profiting  by 
every  height  and  hollo  >v,  they  passed  about  two  sides,  be- 
holding nothing.  On  the  third  side  the  garden  wall  was 
built  close  upon  the  beach,  and  to  preserve  the  distance 
necessary  to  their  purpose,  they  had  to  go  some  way  down 
upon  the  sands.     Although  the  tide  was  still  pretty  far  out, 


A    SKIRMISH    IN    THE    DAKK.  151 

the  surf  was  so  high,  and  the  sands  so  flat,  that  at  each 
breaker  a  great  sheet  of  froth  and  water  came  careering 
over  the  expanse,  and  Dick  and  Greensheve  made  this 
part  of  their  inspection  wading,  now  to  the  ankles,  and 
now  as  deep  as  to  the  knees,  in  the  salt  and  icy  waters  of 
the  German  Ocean. 

Suddenly,  against  the  comparative  whiteness  of  the  gar- 
den wall,  the  figure  of  a  man  was  seen,  like  a  faint  Chi- 
nese shadow,  violently  signaUing  with  both  arms.  As  he 
dropped  again  to  the  earth,  another  arose  a  little  farther  on 
and  repeated  the  same  performance.  And  so,  like  a  silent 
watchword,  these  gesticulations  made  the  round  of  the  be- 
leaguered garden. 

"  They  keep  good  watch,"  Dick  whispered. 

"Let  us  back  to  land,  good  master,"  answered  Green- 
sheve. "We  stand  here  too  open  ;  for,  look  ye,  when  the 
seas  break  heavy  and  white  out  there  behind  us,  they  shall 
see  us  plainly  against  the  foam." 

"  Ye  speak  sooth,"  returned  Dick.  "  Ashore  with  us, 
right  speedily." 


CHAPTER  n. 

A    SKIEIinSH    IN    THE    DAEK. 


Thoroughly  drenched  and  chilled,  the  two  adventurers 
returned  to  their  position  in  the  gorse. 

"  I  pray  Heaven  that  Capper  make  good  speed  !  "  said 


152  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

Dick.  "I  VOW  a  candle  to  St.  Mary  of  Shoreby  if  he  come 
before  the  hour  !  " 

**  T'  are  in  a  hurry,  Master  Dick  ? "  asked  Green- 
sheve. 

*' Ay,  good  fellow,"  answered  Dick  ;  "  for  in  that  house 
lieth  my  lady,  whom  I  love,  and  who  should  these  be  that 
lie  about  her  secretly  by  night  ?     Unfriends,  for  sure  !  " 

**  Well,"  returned  Greensheve,  "  an  John  come  speedily, 
we  shall  give  a  good  account  of  them.  They  are  not  two 
score  at  the  outside — I  judge  so  by  the  spacing  of  their 
sentries — and,  taken  where  they  are,  lying  so  widely,  one 
score  would  scatter  them  like  sparrows.  And  yet.  Master 
Dick,  an  she  be  in  Sir  Daniel's  power  already,  it  will  little 
hurt  that  she  should  change  into  another's.  Who  should 
these  be  ?  " 

"I  do  suspect  the  Lord  of  Shoreby,"  Dick  replied. 
**  When  came  they  ?  " 

*'  They  began  to  come,  Master  Dick,"  said  Greensheve, 
"  about  the  time  ye  crossed  the  wall.  I  had  not  lain  there 
the  space  of  a  minute  ere  I  marked  the  first  of  the  knaves 
crawling  round  the  corner." 

The  last  light  had  been  already  extinguished  in  the  little 
house  when  they  were  wading  in  the  wash  of  the  breakers, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  predict  at  what  moment  the  lurk° 
ing  men  about  the  garden  wall  might  make  their  onslaught. 
Of  two  evils,  Dick  prefen-ed  the  least.  He  preferred  that 
Joanna  should  remain  under  the  guardianship  of  Sir  Daniel 
rather  than  pass  into  the  clutches  of  Lord  Shoreby  ;  and 


A    SKIRMISH    IN    THE    DAIiK.  153 

his  mind  was  made  up,  if  the  house  should  be  assaiilted, 
to  come  at  once  to  the  relief  of  the  besieged. 

But  the  time  passed,  and  still  there  was  no  movement. 
From  quarter  of  an  hour  to  quarter  of  an  hour  the  same 
signal  passed  about  the  garden  wall,  as  if  the  leader  de- 
sired to  assm-e  himself  of  the  "vigilance  of  his  scattered 
followers  ;  but  in  every  other  particular  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  little  house  lay  undisturbed. 

Presently  Dick's  reinforcements  began  to  arrive.  The 
night  was  not  yet  old  before  nearly  a  score  of  men  crouched 
beside  him  in  the  goiSB-- 

Separating  these  into  two  bodies,  he  took  the  com- 
mand of  the  smaller  himself,  and  entrusted  the  larger  to 
the  leadership  of  Greensheve. 

"Now,  Kit,"  said  he  to  this  last,  *'take  me  your  men  to 
the  near  angle  of  the  garden  wall  upon  the  beach.  Post 
them  strongly,  and  wait  till  that  ye  hear  me  falHng  on  upon 
the  other  side.  It  is  those  upon  the  sea  front  that  I  would 
fain  make  certain  of,  for  there  will  be  the  leader.  The  rest 
will  run  ;  even  let  them.  And  now,  lads,  let  no  man  draw 
an  arrow  ;  ye  will  but  hurt  friends.  Take  to  the  steel,  and 
keep  to  the  steel ;  and  if  we  have  the  uppermost,  I  prom- 
ise every  man  of  you  a  gold  noble  when  I  come  to  mine 
estate." 

Out  of  the  odd  collection  of  broken  men,  thieves,  mur- 
derers, and  ruined  peasantry,  whom  Duckworth  had  gath- 
ered together  to  serve  the  purposes  of  his  revenge,  some 
of  the  boldest  and  the  most  experienced  in  war  had  volun- 


lOtt  THE    ELACK    ARKOW. 

teered  to  follow  Eichard  Shelton.  The  seryice  of  watch- 
ing Sir  Daniel's  movements  in  the  town  of  Shoreby  had 
from  the  first  been  irksome  to  their  temper,  and  they  had 
of  late  begun  to  grumble  loudly  and  threaten  to  disperse. 
The  prospect  of  a  shai'p  encounter  and  possible  spoils  re- 
stored them  to  good  humour,  and  they  joyfully  prepared 
for  battle. 

Their  long  tabards  thrown  aside,  they  appeared,  some 
in  plain  green  jerkins,  and  some  in  stout  leathern  jacks  ; 
under  their  hoods  many  wore  bonnets  strengthened  by 
iron  plates  ;  and,  for  offensive  armoui',  swords,  daggers,  a 
few  stout  boai'-spears,  and  a  dozen  of  bright  bills,  put 
them  in  a  posture  to  engage  even  regular  feudal  troops. 
The  bows,  quivers,  and  tabards  were  concealed  among  the 
gorse,  and  the  two  bands  set  resolutely  forward. 

Dick,  when  he  had  reached  the  other  side  of  the  house, 
posted  his  six  men  in  a  line,  about  twenty  yards  from  the 
gai'den  wall,  and  took  position  himself  a  few  paces  in 
front.  Then  they  all  shouted  ^vith  one  voice,  and  closed 
upon  the  enemy. 

These,  lying  widely  scattered,  stiff  with  cold,  and  taken 
at  unawares,  sprang  stupidly  to  theu'  feet,  and  stood  un- 
decided. Before  they  had  time  to  get  their  courage  about 
them,  or  even  to  form  an  idea  of  the  number  and  mettle 
of  their  assailants,  a  similar  shout  of  onslaught  sounded 
in  theii'  ears  from  the  far  side  of  the  enclosure.  There- 
upon they  gave  themselves  up  for  lost  and  ran. 

In  this  way  the  two  small  troops  of  the  men  of  the 


A    SKIRMISH    IN    THE    D^UiK.  155 

Black  Arrow  closed  upon  the  sea  front  of  the  garden  wall, 
and  took  a  part  of  the  strangers,  as  it  were,  between  two 
fires ;  while  the  whole  of  the  remainder  ran  for  their  Hves 
in  different  directions,  and  were  soon  scattered  in  the 
darkness. 

For  all  that,  the  fight  was  but  beginning.  Dick's  out- 
laws, although  they  had  the  advantage  of  the  surprise, 
were  still  considerably  outnumbered  by  the  men  they  had 
surrounded.  The  tide  had  flowed,  in  the  meanwhile  ;  the 
beach  was  narrowed  to  a  strip  ;  and  on  this  wet  field,  be- 
tween the  surf  and  the  garden  wall,  there  began,  in  the 
darkness,  a  doubtful,  furious,  and  deadly  contest. 

The  strangers  .were  well  armed  ;  they  fell  in  silence 
upon  their  assailants ;  and  the  affray  became  a  series  of 
single  combats.  Dick,  who  had  come  first  into  the  mellay, 
was  engaged  by  three  ;  the  first  he  cut  down  at  the  first 
blow,  but  the  other  two  coming  upon  him,  hoth',  he  was 
fain  to  give  ground  before  their  onset.  One  of  these  two 
was  a  huge  fellow,  almost  a  giant  for  stature,  and  armed 
with  a  two-handed  sword,  which  he  brandished  like  a 
switch.  Against  this  opponent,  with  his  reach  of  arm  and 
the  length  and  weight  of  his  weapon,  Dick  and  his  bill 
were  quite  defenceless ;  and  had  the  other  continued  to 
join  vigorously  in  the  attack,  the  lad  must  have  indubita- 
bly fallen.  This  second  man,  however,  less  in  stature  and 
slower  in  his  movements,  paused  for  a  moment  to  peer 
about  him  in  the  darkness,  and  to  give  ear  to  the  sounds 
of  the  battle. 


156  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

The  giant  still  pursued  nis  advantage,  and  still  Dick  fled 
before  him,  spying  for  his  chance.  Then  the  huge  blade 
flashed  and  descended,  and  the  lad,  leaping  on  one  side 
and  running  in,  slashed  sideways  and  upwards  with  his 
bill.  A  roar  of  agony  responded,  and,  before  the  wound- 
ed man  could  raise  his  formidable  weapon,  Dick,  twice 
repeating  his  blow,  had  brought  him  to  the  ground. 

The  next  moment  he  was  engaged,  upon  more  equal 
terms,  with  his  second  pursuer.  Here  there  was  no  great 
difference  in  size,  and  though  the  man,  fighting  with 
sword  and  dagger  against  a  bill,  and  being  wary  and  quick 
of  fence,  had  a  certain  superiority  of  arms,  Dick  more 
than  made  it  up  by  his  greater  agilit^  on  foot.  Neither 
at  first  gained  any  obvious  advantage ;  but  the  older  man 
was  still  insensibly  profiting  by  the  ardour  of  the  younger 
to  lead  him  where  he  would  ;  and  presently  Dick  found 
that  they  had  crossed  the  whole  width  of  the  beach,  and 
were  now  fighting  above  the  knees  in  the  spume  and  bub- 
ble of  the  breakers.  Here  his  own  superior  activity  V\'a3 
rendered  useless ;  he  found  himself  more  or  less  at  the 
discretion  of  his  foe  ;  yet  a  little,  and  he  had  his  back 
turned  upon  his  own  men,  and  saw  that  this  adroit  and 
skilful  adversary  was  bent  upon  drawing  him  farther  and 
farther  away. 

Dick  ground  his  teeth.  He  determined  to  decide  the 
combat  instantly  ;  and  when  the  wash  of  the  next  v>'ave 
had  ebbed  and  left  them  dry,  he  rushed  iu,  caught  a  blow 
upon  his  bill,  "and  leaped  right  at  the  thi-oat  of  his  oppo- 


A    SKIRMISH    IN    THE    DARK.  157 

nent.  The  man  went  down  backwards,  with  Dick  still 
upon  the  top  of  him ;  and  the  next  wave,  speedily  succeed- 
ing to  the  last,  buried  him  below  a  rush  of  water. 

While  he  was  still  submerged,  Dick  forced  his  dagger 
from  his  grasp,  and  rose  to  his  feet,  victorious. 
"  Yield  ye  ! "  he  said.      "  I  give  you  hfe." 
*'  I  yield  me,"  said  the  other,  getting  to  his  knees.     *' Ye 
fight,  like  a  young  man,  ignorantly  and  foolhardily ;  but, 
by  the  array  of  the  saints,  ye  fight  bravely  !  " 

Dick  turned  to  the  beach.  The  combat  was  still  rag- 
ing doubtfully  in  the  night  ;  over  the  hoarse  roar  of  the 
breakers  steel  clanged  upon  steel,  and  cries  of  pain  and 
the  shout  of  battle  resounded. 

*'Lead  me  to  your  captain,  youth,"  said  the  conquered 
knight.     "It  is  fit  this  butchery  should  cease." 

"Sir,"  replied  Dick,  "so  far  as  these  brave  fellows  have 
a  captain,  the  poor  gentleman  who  here  addresses  you  is 
he." 

"  Call  off  your  dogs,  then,  and  I  will  bid  my  villains 
hold,"  returned  the  other. 

There  was  something  noble  both  in  the  voice  and  man- 
ner of  his  late  opponent,  and  Dick  instantly  dismissed  all 
fears  of  treachery. 

"  Lay  down  your  arms,  men  !  "  cried  the  stranger  knight. 
"  I  have  yielded  me,  upon  promise  of  hfe." 

The  tone  of  the  stranger  was  one  of  absolute  command, 
and  almost  instantly  the  din  and  confusion  of  the  mellpss? 
ceased. 


158  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"  Lawless,"  cried  Dick,  "  are  ye  safe  ?  " 

"Ay,"  cried  Lawless,  "  safe  and  hearty." 

*'  Light  me  the  lantern,"  said  Dick. 

*'  Is  not  Sir  Daniel  here  ?  "  inquired  the  knight. 

''Sir  Daniel?"  echoed  Dick.  "Now,  by  the  rood,  1 
pray  not.     It  would  go  ill  with  me  if  he  were." 

"HI  with  you,  fair  sir?"  inquired  the  other.  "Nay, 
then,  if  ye  be  not  of  Sir  Daniel's  party,  I  profess  I  com- 
prehend no  longer.  Wherefore,  then,  fell  ye  upon  mine 
ambush  ?  in  what  quarrel,  my  young  and  very  fiery  friend  ? 
to  what  earthly  purpose  ?  and,  to  make  a  clear  end  of 
questioning,  to  what  good  gentleman  have  I  surren- 
dered ?  " 

But  before  Dick  could  answer,  a  voice  spoke  in  the  dark- 
ness  from  close  by.  Dick  could  see  the  speaker's  black  and 
white  badge,  and  the  respectful  salute  which  he  addressed 
to  his  superior. 

"My  lord,"  said  he,  "if  these  gentlemen  be  unfriends 
to  Sir  Daniel,  it  is  pity,  indeed,  we  should  have  been  at 
blows  with  them ;  but  it  were  tenfold  greater  that  either 
they  or  we  should  linger  here.  The  watchers  in  the  house 
— unless  they  be  all  dead  or  deaf — have  heard  our  ham- 
mering this  quarter-hour  agone  ;  instantly  they  will  have 
signalled  to  the  town  ;  and  unless  we  be  the  livelier  in  our 
departure,  we  are  like  to  be  taken,  both  of  us,  by  a  fresh 
foe." 

"Hawksley  is  in  the  right,"  added  the  lord.  "How 
please  ye,  sir  ?     Whither  shall  we  march  ?" 


A    SKIRMISH    IN    THE    DAKK.  159 

"  Nay,  my  lord,"  said  Dick,  •*  go  -^liere  ye  will  for  me. 
I  do  begin  to  suspect  we  have  some  ground  of  friendship, 
and  if,  indeed,  I  began  our  acquaintance  somewhat  rug- 
gedly, I  would  not  churlishly  continue.  Let  us,  then, 
separate,  my  lord,  you  laying  your  right  hand  in  mine  ; 
and  at  the  hour  and  place  that  ye  shall  name,  let  us  en- 
counter and  agree." 

"Y'  are  too  trustful,  boy,"  said  the  other;  "but  this 
time  your  tiTist  is  not  misplaced.  I  will  meet  you  at  the 
point  of  day  at  St.  Bride's  Cross.     Come,  lads,  follow  !  " 

The  strangers  disappeared  from  the  scene  with  a  rapid- 
ity that  seemed  suspicious ;  and,  while  the  outlaws  fell 
to  the  congenial  task  of  rifling  the  dead  bodies,  Dick 
made  once  more  the  circuit  of  the  garden  wall  to  examine 
the  front  of  the  house.  In  a  little  upper  loophole  of  the 
roof  he  beheld  a  Hght  set ;  and  as  it  would  certainly  be 
yisible  in  town  from  the  back  windows  of  Sir  Daniel's 
mansion,  he  doubted  not  that  this  was  the  sig-nal  feared 
by  Hawksley,  and  that  ere  long  the  lances  of  the  Knight 
of  Tunstall  would  aiTive  upon  the  scene. 

He  put  his  ear  to  the  ground,  and  it  seemed  to  him  as 
if  he  heard  a  jarring  and.  hollow  noise  from  town  ward. 
Back  to  the  beach  he  went  hurrying.  But  the  work  was 
already  done  ;  the  last  body  was  disarmed  and  strij^ped 
to  the  skin,  and  four  fellows  were  already  wading  seaward 
to  commit  it  to  the  mercies  of  the  deep. 

A  few  minutes  later,  when  there  debouched  out  of  the 
nearest  lanes  of  Shoreby  some  two  score  horsemen,  hastily 


160  THE    BLACK   AKliUW. 

arrayed  and  moving  at  the  gallop  of  tlieir  steeds,  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  house  beside  the  sea  was  entirely 
silent  and  deserted. 

Meanwhile,  Dick  and  his  men  had  returned  to  the  ale- 
house of  the  Goat  and  Bagpipes  to  snatch  some  hours  of 
sleep  before  the  morning  tryst. 


CHAPTER  ni. 

ST.    bride's   cross. 


St.  Bride's  Cross  stood  a  little  way  back  from  Shoreby, 
on  the  skii'ts  of  Tunstall  Forest.  Two  roads  met :  one, 
from  Holywood  across  the  forest ;  one,  that  road  from 
Eisingham  down  which  we  saw  the  wrecks  of  a  Lancas- 
trian army  fleeing  in  disorder.  Here  the  two  joined  issue, 
and  went  on  together  down  the  hill  to  Shoreby  ;  and  a  little 
back  from  the  point  of  junction,  the  summit  of  a  little 
knoll  was  crowned  by  the  ancient  and  weather-beaten  cross. 

Here,  then,  about  seven  in  the  morning,  Dick  arrived. 
It  was  as  cold  as  ever ;  the  earth  was  all  grey  and  silver 
with  the  hoar-frost,  and  the  day  began  to  break  in  the 
east  with  many  colours  of  purple  and  orange. 

Dick  set  him  down  upon  the  lowest  step  of  the  cross, 
wrapped  himself  well  in  his  tabard,  and  looked  vigilantly 
upon  all  sides.  He  had  not  long  to  wait.  Down  the  road 
from  Holywood  a  gentleman  in  very  rich  and  bright  ar- 


ST.  bride's  cross.  161 

mour,  and  wearing  over  that  a  surcoat  of  the  rarest  furs, 
came  pacing  on  a  splendid  charger.  Twenty  yards  behind 
him  followed  a  clump  of  lances  ;  but  these  halted  as  soon 
as  they  came  in  view  of  the  trysting-place,  while  the  gen- 
tleman in  the  fur  surcoat  continued  to  advance  alone. 

His  visor  was  raised,  and  showed  a  countenance  of  great 
command  and  dignity,  answerable  to  the  richness  of  his  at- 
tire and  arms.  And  it  was  with  some  confusion  of  man- 
ner that  Dick  arose  from  the  cross  and  stepped  down  the 
bank  to  meet  his  prisoner. 

"I  thank  you,  my  lord,  for  your  exactitude,"  he  said, 
louting  very  low.  '^  Will  it  please  your  lordship  to  set 
foot  to  earth  ?  " 

"Are  ye  here  alone,  young  man  ?  "  inquired  the  other. 

"I  was  not  so  simple,"  answered  Dick;  "and,  to  be 
plain  with  your  lordship,  the  woods  upon  either  hand  of 
this  cross  lie  full  of  mine  honest  fellows  lying  on  their 
weapons." 

"  Y'  'ave  done  wisely,"  said  the  lord.  "  It  pleaseth  me 
the  rather,  since  last  night  ye  fought  foolhardily,  and  more 
like  a  salvage  Saracen  lunatic  than  any  Chiistian  warrior. 
But  it  becomes  not  me  to  complain  that  had  the  under- 
most." 

"  Te  had  the  undermost  indeed,  my  lord,  since  ye  so 

fell,"  returned  Dick  ;  "  but  had  the  waves  not  holpen  me, 

it  was  I  that  should  have  had  the  worst.     Ye  were  pleased 

to  make  me  yours  with  several  dagger  marks,  which  I  still 

carry.     And  in  fine,  my  lord,  methinks  I  had  all  the  dan- 
11 


162  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

ger,  as  well  as  all  the  profit,  of  that  little  blind-man's  med 
ley  on  the  beach." 

"  Y'  are  shrewd  enough  to  make  light  of  it,  I  see,"  re- 
turned the  stranger. 

"Nay,  my  lord,  not  shrewd,"  replied  Dick,  "in  that  I 
shoot  at  no  advantage  to  myself.  But  when,  by  the  light  of 
this  new  day,  I  see  how  stout  a  knight  hath  yielded,  not 
to  my  arms  alone,  but  to  fortune,  and  the  darkness,  and 
the  sui'f — and  how  easily  the  battle  had  gone  otherwise, 
with  a  soldier  so  untried  and  rustic  as  myself — think  it 
not  strange,  my  lord,  if  I  feel  confounded  with  my  victory.' 

*' Ye  speak  well,"  said  the  stranger.     "Your  name?" 

*^My  name,  an't  like  you,  is  Shelton,"  answered  Dick. 

*'  Men  call  me  the  Lord  Foxham,"  added  the  other. 

*'Then,  my  lord,  and  under  your  good  favour,  ye  are 
guardian  to  the  sweetest  maid  in  England,"  replied  Dick  ; 
*'  and  for  your  ransom,  and  the  ransom  of  such  as  were 
taken  with  you  on  the  beach,  there  will  be  no  uncertainty  of 
terms.  I  pray  you,  my  lord,  of  your  goodwill  and  charity, 
yield  me  the  hand  of  my  mistress,  Joan  Sedley  ;  and  take 
ye,  upon  the  other  part,  your  liberty,  the  liberty  of  these 
your  followers,  and  (if  ye  will  have  it)  my  gratitude  and 
service  till  I  die." 

"  But  are  ye  not  ward  to  Sir  Daniel  ?  Methought,  if 
y  are  Harry  Shelton's  son,  that  I  had  heard  it  so  reported,* 
said  Lord  Foxham. 

"Will  it  please  you,  my  lord,  to  alight?  I  would  fain 
tell  you  fully  who  I  am,  how  situate,  and  why  so  bold  in 


t/ 


y-^-^  '\ 


I 


^  i 


ST.  bride's  cross.  163 

my  demands.  Beseech  you,  my  lord,  take  place  upon 
these  steps,  hear  me  to  a  full  eud,  and  judge  me  with 
allowance." 

And  so  saying,  Dick  lent  a  hand  to  Lord  Foxham  to 
dismount ;  led  him  up  the  knoll  to  the  cross  ;  installed  him 
in  the  place  where  he  had  himself  been  sitting  ;  and  stand- 
ing respectfully  before  his  noble  prisoner,  related  the 
story  of  his  fortunes  up  to  the  events  of  the  evening  before. 

Lord  Foxham  listened  gravely,  and  when  Dick  had  done, 
'•Master  Shelton,"  he  said,  "ye  are  a  most  fortunate-un- 
fortunate young  gentleman  ;  but  what  fortune  y'  'ave  had, 
that  ye  have  amply  merited  ;  and  what  unfortune,  ye  have 
noways  deserved.  Be  of  a  good  cheer  ;  for  ye  have  made 
a  friend  who  is  devoid  neither  of  power  nor  favour.  For 
yourself,  although  it  fits  not  for  a  person  of  your  birth  to 
herd  with  outlaws,  I  must  own  ye  are  both  brave  and 
honourable  ;  very  dangerous  in  battle,  right  courteous 
in  peace  ;  a  youth  of  excellent  disposition  and  brave  bear- 
ing. For  your  estates,  ye  will  never  see  them  till  the 
world  shall  change  again ;  so  long  as  Lancaster  hath  the 
strong  hand,  so  long  shall  Sii'  Daniel  enjoy  them  for  his 
own.  For  my  ward,  it  is  another  matter  ;  I  had  promised 
her  before  to  a  gentleman,  a  kinsman  of  my  house,  one 
Hamley  ;  the  promise  is  old " 

''Ay,  my  lord,  and  now  Sir  Daniel  hath  promised  her" 
to  my  Lord  Shoreby,"  interrupted  Dick.  "  And  his 
promise,  for  all  it  is  but  young,  is  still  the  likeher  to  be 
made  good." 


164  THE    ELACK    AllBO^Y. 

"  'Tis  the  plain  truth,"  returned  his  lordship.  "And 
considering,  moreover,  that  I  am  your  prisoner,  upon  no 
better  composition  than  my  bare  life,  and  over  and  above 
that,  that  the  maiden  is  unhappily  in  other  hands,  I  will 
so  far  consent.     Aid  me  with  youi-good  fellows" 

"My  lord,"  cried  Dick,  "  they  are  these  same  outlaws 
that  ye  blame  me  for  consorting  with." 

"  Let  them  be  what  they  will,  they  can  fight,"  returned 
Lord  Foxham.  "  Help  me,  then  ;  and  if  between  us  we 
regain  the  maid,  upon  my  knightly  honour,  she  shall  marry 
you  1 " 

Dick  bent  his  knee  before  his  prisoner  ;  but  he,  leaping 
up  lightly  from  the  cross,  caught  the  lad  up  and  embraced 
him  like  a  son. 

"Come,"  he  said,  '  an  y'  are  to  marry  Joan,  we  must  be 
early  friends." 


CHAPTEE    rV. 

THE     GOOD    HOPE. 


An  hour  thereafter,  Dick  was  back  at  the  Goat  and  Bag- 
pipes, breaking  his  fast,  and  receiving  the  report  of  his 
messengers  and  sentries.  Duckworth  was  still  absent 
from  Shoreby  ;  and  this  was  frequently  the  case,  for  he 
played  many  parts  in  the  world,  shared  many  different 
interests,  and  conducted  many  various  affairs.  He  had 
founded  that  fellowship  of  the  Black  Ai'row,  :;?  a  ruined 


I 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  165 

man  longing  for  vengeance  and  money ;  and  yet  among 
those  wlio  knew  him  best,  he  was  thought  to  be  the  agent 
and  emissary  of  the  great  King-maker  of  England,  Eich- 
ard.  Earl  of  Warwick. 

In  his  absence,  at  any  rate,  it  fell  upon  Eichard  Shelton 
to  command  affairs  in  Shoreby ;  and,  as  he  sat  at  meat, 
his  mind  was  full  of  care,  and  his  face  heavy  with  consid- 
eration. It  had  been  determined,  between  him  and  the 
Lord  Foxham,  to  make  one  bold  stroke  that  evening,  and, 
by  binite  force,  to  set  Joanna  free.  The  obstacles,  how- 
ever, were  many  ;  and  as  one  after  another  of  his  scouts 
arrived,  each  brought  him  more  discomfortable  news. 

Sir  Daniel  was  alarmed  by  the  skirmish  of  the  night 
before.  He  had  increased  the  garrison  of  the  house  in  the 
garden ;  but  not  content  with  that,  he  had  stationed 
horsemen  in  all  the  neighbouring  lanes,  so  that  he  might 
have  instant  word  of  any  movement.  Meanwhile,  in  the 
court  of  his  mansion,  steeds  stood  saddled,  and  the  riders, 
armed  at  every  point,  awaited  but  the  signal  to  ride. 

The  adventure  of  the  night  appeared  more  and  more 
difficult  of  execution,  till  suddenly  Dick's  countenance 
lightened. 

"Lawless!"  he  cried,  "you  that  were  a  shipman,  can 
ye  steal  me  a  ship?" 

"Master  Dick,"  replied  Lawless,  "if  ye  would  back  me, 
I  would  agTee  to  steal  York  Minster." 

Presently  after,  these  two  set  forth  and  descended  to  the 
harbour.     It  was  a  considerable  basin,  lying  among  sand 


166  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

hills,  and  surrounded  with  patches  of  down,  ancient  ruin- 
ous lumber,  and  tumble-down  slums  of  the  town.  Many 
decked  ships  and  many  open  boats  either  lay  there  at  an- 
chor, or  had  been  drawn  up  on  the  beach.  A  long  dura- 
tion of  bad  weather  had  driven  them  from  the  high  seas 
into  the  shelter  of  the  port  ;  and  the  great  trooping  of 
black  clouds,  and  the  cold  squalls  that  followed  one 
another,  now  with  a  sprinkling  of  dry  snow,  now  in  a 
mere  swoop  of  wind,  promised  no  improvement  but 
rather  threatened  a  more  serious  storm  in  the  immediate 
future. 

The  seamen,  in  view  of  the  cold  and  the  wind,  had  for 
the  most  part  slunk  ashore,  and  were  now  roaring  and 
singing  in  the  shoreside  taverns.  Many  of  the  ships 
already  rode  unguarded  at  their  anchors  ;  and  as  the  day 
wore  on,  and  the  weather  offered  no  appearance  of  im- 
provement, the  number  was  continually  being  augmented. 
It  was  to  these  deserted  ships,  and,  above  all,  to  those  of 
them  that  lay  far  out,  that  Lawless  directed  his  attention  ; 
while  Dick,  seated  upon  an  anchor  that  was  half  embedded 
in  the  sand,  and  giving  ear,  now  to  the  rude,  potent,  and 
boding  voices  of  the  gale,  and  now  to  the  hoarse  singing 
of  the  shipmen  in  a  neighbouriog  tavern,  soon  forgot  his 
immediate  surroundings  and  concerns  in  the  agreeable 
recollection  of  Lord  Foxham's  promise. 

He  was  disturbed  by  a  touch  upon  his  shoulder.  It  was 
Lawless,  pointing  to  a  small  ship  that  lay  somewhat  by  it- 
self, and  within  but  a  little  of  the  harbour  mouth,  where 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  167 

it  heaved  regularly  and  smoothly  on  the  entering  swell. 
A  pale  gleam  of  winter  sunshine  fell,  at  that  moment,  on 
the  vessel's  deck,  relieving  her  against  a  bank  of  scowling 
cloud  ;  and  in  this  momentary  glitter  Dick  could  see  a 
couple  of  men  hauling  the  skiff  alongside. 

"There,  sir,"  said  Lawless,  "mark  ye  it  well!  There 
is  the  ship  for  to-night." 

Presently  the  skiff  put  out  from  the  vessel's  side,  and  the 
two  men,  keeping  her  head  well  to  the  wind,  pulled  lustily 
for  shore.     Lawless  turned  to  a  loiterer. 

"  How  call  ye  her  ?  "  he  asked,  pointing  to  the  little  ves- 
sel. 

**  They  call  her  the  Good  Hope,  of  Dartmouth,"  replied 
the  loiterer.  "  Her  captain,  Arblaster  byname.  He  pul- 
leth  the  bow  oar  in  yon  skiff." 

This  was  all  that  Lawless  wanted.  Hurriedly  thanking 
the  man,  he  moved  round  the  shore  to  a  certain  sandy 
creek,  for  which  the  skiff  was  heading.  There  he  took  up 
his  position,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  within  earshot, 
opened  fire  on  the  sailors  of  the  Good  Hope. 

"What!  Gossip  Arblaster!"  he  cried.  ''Why,  ye  be 
well  met  ;  nay,  gossip,  ye  be  right  well  met,  upon  the 
rood  !  And  is  that  the  Good  Hope  ?  Ay,  I  would  know 
her  among  ten  thousand  ! — a  sweet  shear,  a  sweet  boat ! 
But  mariy  come  up,  my  gossip,  will  ye  drink  ?  I  have 
come  into  mine  estate  which  doubtless  ye  remember  to 
have  heard  on.  I  am  now  rich  ;  I  have  left  to  sail  upon 
the  sea  ;  I  do  sail  now,  for  the  most  part,  upon  spiced  ale. 


168  THE   BLACK    ARROW. 

Come,  fellow ;  thy  hand  upon  't !  Come,  drink  with  an 
old  shipfellow  ! " 

Skipper  Arblaster,  a  long-faced,  elderly,  weather-beaten 
man,  with  a  knife  hanging  about  his  neck  by  a  plaited 
cord,  and  for  all  the  world  like  any  modern  seaman  in  his 
gait  and  bearing,  had  hung  back  in  obvious  amazement 
and  distrust.  But  the  name  of  an  estate,  and  a  certain  air 
of  tipsified  simplicity  and  good-fellowship  which  Lawless 
very  well  affected,  combined  to  conquer  his  suspicious 
jealousy  ;  his  countenance  relaxed,  aud  he  at  once  extend- 
ed his  open  hand  and  squeezed  that  of  the  outlaw  in  a  for- 
miable  grasp. 

"Nay,"  he  said,  "I  cannot  mind  you.  But  what  o' 
that?  I  would  drink  with  any  man,  gossip,  and  so  would 
my  man  Tom.  Man  Tom,"  he  added,  addressing  his  fol- 
lower, "  here  is  my  gossip,  whose  name  I  cannot  mind,  but 
no  doubt  a  very  good  seaman.  Let's  go  drink  with  him 
'and  his  shore  friend." 

Lawless  led  the  way,  and  they  were  soon  seated  in  an 
alehouse,  which,  as  it  was  very  new,  and  stood  in  an  ex- 
posed and  solitary  station,  was  less  crowded  than  those 
nearer  to  the  centre  of  the  port.  It  was  but  a  shed  of  tim- 
ber, much  like  a  blockhouse  in  the  backwoods  of  to-day, 
and  was  coarsely  furnished  with  a  press  or  two,  a  number 
of  naked  benches,  and  boards  set  upon  barrels  to  play  the 
part  of  tables.  In  the  middle,  and  besieged  by  half  a  hun- 
dred violent  draughts,  a  fire  of  wreck-wood  blazed  and 
vomited  thick  smoke. 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  1G9 

"Ay,  now,"  said  Lawless,  **  here  is  a  shipman's  joy— a 
good  fire  and  a  good  stiff  cup  ashore,  with  foul  weather 
without  and  an  off-sea  gale  a-snoring  in  the  roof !  Here's 
to  the  Good  Hope  !     May  she  lide  easy  I  " 

"  Ay,"  said  Skipper  Ai'blaster,  "  'tis  good  weather  to  be 
ashore  in,  that  is  sooth.  Man  Tom,  how  say  ye  to  that  ? 
Gossip,  ye  speak  well,  though  I  can  never  think  upon  your 
name  ;  but  ye  speak  very  well.  May  the  Good  Hope  ride 
easy  I     Amen  !  " 

'•  Friend  Dickon,"  resumed  Lawless,  addressing  his  com- 
mander, "  ye  have  certain  matters  on  hand,  unless  I  err  ? 
"Well,  prithee  be  about  them  incontinently.  For  here  I  be 
with  the  choice  of  all  good  company,  two  tough  old  ship- 
men  ;  and  till  that  ye  return  I  will  go  warrant  these  bravo 
fellows  will  bide  here  and  drink  me  cup  for  cup.  We  are 
not  like  shore-men,  we  old,  tough  tarry- Johns  1" 

'•'  It  is  well  meant,"  returned  the  skipper.  "  Ye  can  go, 
boy  ;  for  I  will  keep  your  good  friend  and  my  good  gossip 
company  till  cui'few— ay,  and  by  St.  ilaiw,  till  the  sun  get 
up  again  !  For,  look  ye,  when  a  man  hath  been  long 
enough  at  sea,  the  salt  getteth  me  into  the  clay  upon  his 
bones  ;  and  let  him  drink  a  draw-well,  he  will  never  be 
quenched." 

Thus  encouraged  upon  all  hands,  Dick  rose,  saluted  his 
company,  and  going  forth  again  into  the  gusty  afternoon, 
got  him  as  speedily  as  he  might  to  the  Goat  and  Bagpipes. 
Thence  he  sent  word  to  my  Lord  Foxham  that,  so  soon  as 
ever  the  evening  closed,  they  would  have  a  stout  boat  to 


170  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

keep  the  sea  in.  And  then  leading  along  with  him  a 
couple  of  outlaws  who  had  some  experience  of  the  sea,  he 
returned  himself  to  the  harbour  and  the  little  sandy  creek. 

The  skiff  of  the  Good  Hope  lay  among  many  others, 
from  which  it  was  easily  distinguished  by  its  extreme 
smallness  and  fragility.  Indeed,  when  Dick  and  his  two 
men  had  taken  their  places,  and  begun  to  put  forth  out  of 
the  creek  into  the  open  harbour,  the  little  cockle  dipped 
into  the  swell  and  staggered  under  every  gust  of  wind, 
like  a  thing  upon  the  point  of  sinking. 

The  Good  Hope,  as  we  have  said,  was  anchored  far  out, 
where  the  swell  was  heaviest.  No  other  vessel  lay  nearer 
than  several  cables'  length  ;  those  that  were  the  nearest 
were  themselves  entirely  deserted  ;  and  as  the  skiff  ap- 
proached, a  thick  fluiTy  of  snow  and  a  sudden  darken- 
ing of  the  weather  further  concealed  the  movements  of 
the  outlaws  from  all  possible  espial.  In  a  trice  they  had 
leaped  upon  the  heaving  deck,  and  the  skiff  was  dancing 
at  the  stern.     The  Good  Hope  was  captured. 

She  was  a  good  stout  boat,  decked  in  the  bows  and 
amidships,  but  open  in  the  stern.  She  carried  one  mast, 
and  was  rigged  between  a  felucca  and  a  lugger.  It  would 
eeem  that  Skipper  Ai'blaster  had  made  an  excellent  ven- 
ture, for  the  hold  was  full  of  pieces  of  French  wine  ;  and 
in  the  little  cabin,  besides  the  Virgin  Mary  in  the  bulk- 
head which  proved  the  captain's  piety,  there  were  many 
lockfast  chests  and  cupboai'ds,  which  showed  him  to  bd 
rich  and  careful. 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  I7l 

A  dog,  who  was  the  sole  occupant  of  the  vessel,  furiously 
barked  and  bit  the  heels  of  the  boarders  ;  but  he  was 
soon  kicked  into  the  cabin,  and  the  door  shut  upon  his 
just  resentment.  A  lamp  was  lit  and  fixed  in  the  shrouds 
to  mark  the  vessel  clearly  from  the  shore  ;  one  of  the 
wine  pieces  in  the  hold  was  broached,  and  a  cup  of  ex- 
cellent Gascony  emptied  to  the  adventure  of  the  evening ; 
and  then,  while  one  of  the  outlaws  began  to  get  ready  his 
bow  and  arrows  and  prepare  to  hold  the  ship  against  all 
comers,  the  other  hauled  in  the  skiff  and  got  overboard, 
where  he  held  on,  waiting  for  Dick. 

"  Well,  Jack,  keep  me  a  good  watch,"  said  the  young 
commander,  preparing  to  follow  his  subordinate.  "Ye 
will  do  right  well." 

"Why,"  returned  Jack,  "I  shall  do  excellent  well  in- 
deed, so  long  as  we  lie  here  ;  but  once  we  put  the  nose  of 

this  poor  ship  outside  the  harbour See,  there  she 

trembles  !  Nay,  the  poor  shrew  heard  the  words,  and  the 
heart  misgave  her  in  her  oak-tree  ribs.  But  look,  Master 
Dick  !  how  black  the  weather  gathers  !  " 

The  darkness  ahead  was,  indeed,  astonishing.  Great 
billows  heaved  up  out  of  the  blackness,  one  after  another ; 
and  one  after  another  the  Good  Hope  buoyantly  climbed, 
and  giddily  plunged  upon  the  further  side.  A  thin 
sprinkle  of  snow  and  thin  flakes  of  foam  came  flying,  and 
powdered  the  deck  ;  and  the  wind  harped  dismally  among 
the  rigging. 

"In  sooth^  it  looketh  evilly,"  said  Dick.     "But  what 


172  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

cheer!  'Tis  but  a  squall,  and  presently  it  will  blow 
over."  But,  in  spite  of  liis  words,  he  was  depres singly  af- 
fected by  the  bleak  disorder  of  the  sky  and  the  wailing 
and  fluting  of  the  wind  ;  and  as  he  got  over  the  side  of 
the  Good  Hope  and  made  once  more  for  the  landing- 
creek  with  the  best  speed  of  oars,  he  crossed  himself  de- 
voutly, and  recommended  to  Heaven  the  lives  of  all  who 
should  adventure  on  the  sea. 

At  the  landing-creek  there  had  already  gathered  about 
a  dozen  of  the  outlaws.  To  these  the  skiff  was  left,  and 
they  were  bidden  embark  without  delay. 

A  little  further  up  the  beach  Dick  found  Lord  Foxham 
hurrying  in  quest  of  him,  his  face  concealed  with  a  dark 
hood,  and  his  bright  armour  covered  by  a  long  russet 
mantle  of  a  poor  appearance. 

"Young  Shelton,"  he  said,  "are  ye  for  sea,  then, 
truly?" 

*'  My  lord,"  replied  Kichard,  '•'  they  lie  about  the  house 
with  horsemen  ;  it  may  not  be  reached  from  the  land  side 
without  alarum ;  and  Sir  Daniel  once  advertised  of  our 
adventure,  we  can  no  more  carry  it  to  a  good  end  than, 
saving  your  presence,  we  could  ride  upon  the  wind.  Now, 
in  going  round  by  sea,  we  do  run  some  peril  by  the  ele- 
ments ;  but,  what  much  outweighteth  all,  we  have  a  chance 
to  make  good  oui'  purpose  and  bear  off  the  maid." 

**Well,"  returned  Lord  Foxham,  ''lead  on.  I  will,  in 
some  sort,  follow  you  for  shame's  sake  ;  but  I  own  I  would 
I  were  in  bed.'* 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  173 

"Here,  then,"  said  Dick.  "Hither  we  go  to  fetch  our 
pilot." 

And  he  led  the  way  to  the  rude  alehouse  where  he  had 
given  rendezvous  to  a  portion  of  his  raen.  Some  of  these 
he  found  lingering  round  the  door  outside  ;  others  had 
pushed  more  boldly  in,  and,  choosing  places  as  near  as 
possible  to  where  they  saw  their  comrade,  gathered  close 
about  Lawless  and  the  two  shipmen.  These,  to  judge  by 
the  distempered  countenance  and  cloudy  eye,  had  long 
since  gone  beyond  the  boundaries  of  moderation  ;  and  as 
Richard  entered,  closely  followed  by  Lord  Foxham,  they 
were  all  thi-ee  tuning  up  an  old,  pitiful  sea-ditty,  to  the 
chorus  of  the  wailing  of  the  gale. 

The  young  leader  cast  a  rapid  glance  about  the  shed. 
The  fii-e  had  just  been  replenished,  and  gave  forth  vol- 
umes of  black  smoke,  so  that  it  was  difficult  to  see  clearly 
in  the  further  corners.  It  was  plain,  however,  that  the 
outlaws  very  largely  outnumbered  the  remainder  of  the 
guests.  Satisfied  upon  this  point,  in  case  of  any  failure  in 
the  operation  of  his  plan,  Dick  strode  up  to  the  table  and 
resumed  his  place  upon  the  bench. 

"Hey?"  cried  the  skipper,  tipsily,  "who  are  ye,  hey?" 

"I  want  a  word  with  you  without,  Master  Ai'blaster," 
returned  Dick  ;  "  and  here  is  what  we  shall  talk  of."  And 
he  showed  him  a  gold  noble  in  the  glimmer  of  the  fire- 
light. 

The  shipman's  eyes  burned,  although  he  still  failed  to 
recoG^nize  our  hero. 


1T4:  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"  At,  boy,"  he  said,  "  I  am  with  you.  Gossip,  I  will  be 
back  anou.  Drink  fair,  gossij^  ;"  and,  taking  Dick's  arm 
to  steady  his  uneven  steps,  he  walked  to  the  door  of  the 
alehouse. 

As  soon  as  he  was  over  the  threshold,  ten  strong  arms 
had  seized  and  bound  him  ;  and  in  two  minutes  more, 
with  his  limbs  trussed  one  to  another,  and  a  good  gag  in 
his  mouth,  he  had  been  tumbled  neck  and  crop  into  a 
neighbouring  hay-barn.  Presently,  his  man  Tom,  similarly 
secured,  was  tossed  beside  him,  and  the  pair  were  left  to 
their  uncouth  reflections  for  the  night. 

And  now,  as  the  time  for  concealment  had  gone  by, 
Lord  Foxham's  followers  were  summoned  by  a  preconcerted 
signal,  and  the  party,  boldly  taking  possession  of  as  many 
boats  as  their  numbers  required,  pulled  in  a  flotilla  for 
the  light  in  the  rigging  of  the  ship.  Long  before  the 
last  man  had  climbed  to  the  deck  of  the  Good  Hope,  the 
sound  of  furious  shouting  from  the  shore  showed  that  a 
part,  at  least,  of  the  seamen  had  discovered  the  loss  of 
their  skifi's. 

But  it  was  now  too  late,  whether  for  recovery  or  revenge. 
Out  of  some  forty  fighting  men  now  mustered  in  the 
stolen  ship,  eight  had  been  to  sea,  and  could  play  the 
part  of  mariners.  With  the  aid  of  these,  a  slice  of  sail 
was  got  upon  her.  The  cable  was  cut.  Lawless,  vacil- 
lating on  his  feet,  and  still  shouting  the  chorus  of  sea- 
ballads,  took  the  long  tiller  in  his  hands :  and  the  Good 
Hope   began   to   flit   forward   into  the    darkness   of  the 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  i I o 

ni^hi,  and  to  face  the  great  waves  beyond  tlie  harbour 
bai\ 

Richard  took  his  place  beside  the  weather  rigging. 
Except  for  the  ship's  own  lantern,  and  for  some  lights  in 
Shorebv  town,  that  were  already  fading  to  leeward,  the 
whole  world  of  air  was  as  black  as  in  a  pit.  Only  from 
time  to  time,  as  the  Good  Hope  swooped  dizzily  down 
into  the  valley  of  the  rollers,  a  crest  would  break — a  great 
cataract  of  snowy  foam  would  leap  in  one  instant  into  be- 
ing— and,  in  an  instant  more,  would  stream  into  the  wake 
and  vanish. 

Many  of  the  men  lay  holding  on  and  praying  aloud ; 
many  more  were  sick,  and  had  crept  into  the  bottom, 
where  they  sprawled  among  the  cargo.  And  what  with 
the  extreme  violence  of  the  motion,  and  the  continued 
drunken  bravado  of  Lawless,  still  shouting  and  singing  at 
the  helm,  the  stoutest  heart  on  boaixl  may  have  nourished 
a  shrewd  misgiving  as  to  the  result. 

But  Lawless,  as  if  guided  by  an  instinct,  steered  the 
ship  across  the  breakers,  struck  the  lee  of  a  gi-eat  sand- 
bank, where  they  sailed  for  a  while  in  smooth  water,  and 
presently  after  laid  her  alongside  a  rude,  stone  pier,  where 
she  was  hastily  made  fast,  and  lay  ducking  and  giinding 
in  the  dark. 


17G  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 


CHAPTEK  V. 

THE  GOOD  HOPE  {coiitinued). 

The  pier  was  not  far  distant  from  the  house  in  which 
Joanna  lay  ;  it  now  only  remained  to  get  the  men  on  shore, 
to  surround  the  house  with  a  strong  party,  burst  in  the 
door  and  carry  off  the  captive.  They  might  then  regard 
themselves  as  done  with  the  Good  Hope  ;  it  had  placed 
them  on  the  rear  of  their  enemies ;  and  the  retreat, 
whether  they  should  succeed  or  fail  in  the  main  enter- 
prise, would  be  directed  with  a  greater  measure  of  hope 
in  the  direction  of  the  forest  and  my  Lord  Foxham's 
reserve. 

To  get  the  men  on  shore,  however,  was  no  easy  task  ; 
many  had  been  sick,  all  were  pierced  with  cold ;  the  pro- 
miscuity and  disorder  on  board  had  shaken  their  disci- 
pline ;  the  movement  of  the  ship  and  the  darkness  of  the 
night  had  cowed  their  spirits.  They  made  a  rush  upon 
the  pier  ;  my  lord,  with  his  sword  drawn  on  his  own  re- 
tainers, must  throw  himself  in  front  ;  and  this  impulse  of 
rabblement  was  not  restrained  without  a  certain  clamour 
of  voices,  highly  to  be  regretted  in  the  case. 

When  some  degree  of  order  had  been  restored,  Dick, 
with  a  few  chosen  men,  set  forth  in  advance.  The  dark- 
ness on  shore,  by  contrast  with  the  flashing  of  the  surf, 


THE    GOOD    HOrE.  177 

appeared  before  him  like  a  solid  body  ;  and  the  howling 
and  whistling  of  the  gale  drowned  any  lesser  noise. 

He  had  scarce  reached  the  end  of  the  pier,  however, 
when  there  fell  a  lull  of  the  wind  ;  and  in  this  he  seemed 
to  hear  on  shore  the  hollow  footing  of  horses  and  the 
clash  of  arms.  Checking  his  immediate  followers,  he 
passed  forward  a  step  or  two  alone,  even  setting  foot  upon 
the  down  ;  and  here  he  made  sure  he  could  detect  the 
shape  of  men  and  horses  moving.  A  strong  discourage- 
ment assailed  him.  If  their  enemies  were  really  on  the 
watch,  if  they  had  beleaguered  the  shoreward  end  of  the 
pier,  he  and  Lord  Foxham  were  taken  in  a  posture  of 
very  poor  defence,  the  sea  behind,  the  men  jostled  in  the 
dark  upon  a  narrow  causeway.  He  gave  a  cautious  whis- 
tle, the  signal  previously  agreed  upon. 

It  proved  to  be  a  signal  far  more  than  he  desired.  In- 
stantly there  fell,  through  the  black  night,  a  shower  of 
arrows  sent  at  a  venture  ;  and  so  close  were  the  men  hud- 
dled on  the  pier  that  more  than  one  was  hit,  and  the  ai*- 
rows  were  answered  with  cries  of  both  fear  and  pain.  In 
this  first  discharge,  Lord  Foxham  was  struck  down ; 
Hawksley  had  him  carried  on  board  again  at  once  ;  and  his 
men,  during  the  brief  remainder  of  the  skirmish,  fought 
(when  they  fought  at  aU)  without  guidance.  That  was 
perhaps  the  chief  cause  of  the  disaster  which  made  haste 
to  follow. 

At  the  shore  end  of  the  pier,  for  perhaps  a  minute,  Dick 
held  his  own  with  a  handful  ;  one  or  two  were  wounded 
12 


ITS  THE   BLACK    ARROW. 

upon  either  side  ;  steel  crossed  steel  ;  nor  had  there  been 
the  least  signal  of  advantage,  when  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye  the  tide  turned  against  the  party  from  the  ship. 
Someone  cried  out  that  all  was  lost ;  the  men  were  in  the 
very  humour  to  lend  an  ear  to  a  discomfortable  counsel ; 
the  cry  was  taken  up.  "  On  board,  lads,  for  your  Hves  !  '* 
cried  another.  A  third,  with  the  true  instinct  of  the  cow- 
ard, raised  that  inevitable  report  on  all  retreats  :  "We  are 
betrayed ! "  And  in  a  moment  the  whole  mass  of  men 
went  surging  and  josthug  backward  down  the  pier,  turn- 
ing their  defenceless  backs  on  their  pursuers  and  piercing 
the  night  with  craven  outcry. 

One  coward  thrust  off  the  ship's  stern,  while  another 
still  held  her  by  the  bows.  The  fugitives  leaped,  scream- 
ing, and  were  hauled  on  board,  or  fell  back  and  perished 
in  the  sea.  Some  were  cut  down  upon  the  pier  by  the 
pursuers.  Many  were  injured  on  the  ship's  deck  in  the 
blind  haste  and  terror  of  the  moment,  one  man  leaping 
upon  another,  and  a  third  on  both.  At  last,  and  whether 
by  desigD  or  accident,  the  bows  of  the  Good  Hope  were 
liberated  ;  and  the  ever-ready  Lawless,  who  had  main- 
tained his  place  at  the  helm  through  all  the  hurly-burly 
by  sheer  strength  of  body  and  a  liberal  use  of  the  cold 
steel,  instantly  clapped  her  on  the  proper  tack.  The  ship 
began  to  move  once  more  forward  on  the  stormy  sea,  its 
scuppers  running  blood,  its  deck  heaped  with  fallen  men, 
sprawling  and  struggling  in  the  dark. 

Thereupon,  Lawless  sheathed  his  dagger,  and  turning 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  179 

to  his  next  neighbour,  "  I  have  left  my  mark  on  them, 
gossip,'"'  said  he,  "the  yelping,  coward  hounds." 

Now,  while  they  were  all  leaping  and  strugghng  for 
their  lives,  the  men  had  not  appeared  to  observe  the 
rough  shoves  and  cutting  stabs  with  which  Lawless  had 
held  his  post  in  the  confusion.  But  perhaps  they  had 
already  begun  to  understand  somewhat  more  clearly, 
or  perhaps  another  ear  had  overheard,  the  helmsman's 
speech. 

Panic-stricken  troops  recover  slowly,  and  men  who  have 
just  disgraced  themselves  by  cowardice,  as  if  to  wipe  out 
the  memory  of  their  fault,  will  sometimes  run  straight  in- 
to the  opposite  extreme  of  insubordination.  So  it  was 
now  ;  and  the  same  men  who  had  thrown  away  their 
weapons  and  been  hauled,  feet  foremost,  into  the  Good 
Hope,  began  to  ciw  out  upon  their  leaders,  and  demand 
that  someone  should  be  punished. 

This  growing  ill-feehng  turned  upon  Lawless. 

In  order  to  get  a  proper  offing,  the  old  outlaw  had  put 
the  head  of  the  Good  Hope  to  seaward. 

" AYhat  !"  bawled  one  of  the  grumblers,  "he  carrieth 
us  to  seaward  !  " 

"  "Tis  sooth,"  cried  another.  "  Xay,  we  are  betrayed  for 
sure." 

And  they  all  began  to  cry  out  in  chorus  that  they  were 
betrayed,  and  in  shrill  tones  and  with  abominable  oaths 
bade  Lawless  go  about-ship  and  bring  them  speedily 
ashore.     Lawless,  CTiincling  his  teeth,  continued  in  silence 


ISO  THE    BLACK   AKROW. 

to  steer  the  true  course,  guiding  the  Good  Hope  among 
the  formidable  billows.  To  their  empty  terrors,  as  to 
their  dishonourable  threats,  between  drink  and  dignity 
he  scorned  to  make  reply.  The  malcontents  drew  to- 
gether a  little  abaft  the  mast,  and  it  was  plain  they  were 
like  barnyard  cocks,  "  crowing  for  courage."  Presently 
they  would  be  fit  for  any  extremity  of  injustice  or  ingrati- 
tude. Dick  began  to  mount  by  the  ladder,  eager  to  inter- 
pose ;  but  one  of  the  outlaws,  who  was  also  something  of 
a  seaman,  got  beforehand, 

*'Lads,"  he  began,  "y'are  right  wooden  heads,  I  think. 
For  to  get  back,  by  the  mass,  we  must  have  an  offing, 
must  we  not  ?     And  this  old  Lawless " 

Someone  struck  the  speaker  on  the  mouth,  and  the 
next  moment,  as  a  fire  springs  among  dry  straw,  he  was 
felled  upon  the  deck,  trampled  under  the  feet,  and  de- 
spatched by  the  daggers  of  his  cowai'dly  companions.  At 
this  the  wrath  of  Lawless  rose  and  broke. 

"Steer  yourselves,"  he  bellowed,  with  a  curse;  and. 
careless  of  the  result,  he  left  the  helm. 

The  Good  Hope  was,  at  that  moment,  trembling  on  the 
summit  of  a  swell.  She  subsided,  with  sickening  velocity, 
upon  the  farther  side.  A  wave,  like  a  great  black  bul- 
wark, hove  immediately  in  front  of  her  ;  and,  with  a  stag- 
gering blow,  she  plunged  headforemost  through  that  liquid 
hill.  The  green  water  passed  right  over  her  from  stem 
to  stern,  as  high  as  a  man's  knees ;  the  sprays  ran  higher 
than  the  mast ;  and  she  rose  again  upon  the  other  side. 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  ISl 

with  an  appalling,  tremulous  indecision,  like  a  beast  that 
has  been  deadly  wounded. 

Six  or  seven  of  the  malcontents  had  been  carried  bodily 
overboard ;  and  as  for  the  remainder,  when  they  fuund 
their  tongues  again,  it  was  to  bellow  to  the  saints  and 
wail  upon  Lawless  to  come  back  and  take  the  tiller. 

Nor  did  Lawless  wait  to  be  twice  bidden.  The  terrible 
result  of  his  fling  of  just  resentment  sobered  him  com- 
pletely. He  knew,  better  than  any  one  on  board,  how 
nearly  the  Good  Hope  had  gone  bodily  down  below  their 
feet  ;  and  he  could  tell,  by  the  laziness  with  which  she  met 
the  sea,  that  the  peril  was  by  no  means  over. 

Dick,  who  had  been  thrown  down  by  the  concussion 
and  half  drowned,  rose  wading  to  his  knees  in  the  swamped 
,7ell  of  the  stern,  and  crept  to  the  old  helmsman's  side. 

"  Lawless,"  he  said,  "we  do  all  depend  on  you  ;  y'  are  a 
brave,  steady  man,  indeed,  and  crafty  in  the  management 
of  ships  ;  I  shall  put  three  sure  men  to  watch  upon  your 
safety." 

"Bootless,  my  master,  bootless,"  said  the  steersman, 
peering  forward  through  the  dark.  "We  come  every  mo- 
ment somewhat  clearer  of  these  sandbanks  ;  with  every 
moment,  then,  the  sea  packeth  upon  us  heavier,  and  for 
all  these  whimperers,  they  will  presently  be  on  their  backs. 
For,  my  master,  'tis  a  right  mystery,  but  true,  there  never 
yet  was  a  bad  man  that  was  a  good  shipman.  None  but  the 
honest  and  the  bold  can  endure  me  this  tossing  of  a  sliip." 

''Nay,  Lawless,"  said  Dick,  laughing,  "that  is  a  right 


182  THE    BLACK    AKKOW. 

shipman's  byword,  and  hath  no  more  of  sense  than  the 
whistle  of  the  wmd.  But,  prithee,  how  go  we  ?  Do  we 
lie  well  ?     Ai-e  we  in  good  case  ?  " 

"Master  Shelton,"  replied  Lawless,  '*!  have  been  a 
Grey  Friar — I  praise  fortune — an  archer,  a  thief,  and  a 
shipman.  Of  all  these  coats,  I  had  the  best  fancy  to  die 
in  the  Grey  Friar's,  as  ye  may  readily  conceive,  and  the 
least  fancy  to  die  in  John  Shipman's  tarry  jacket ;  and 
that  for  two  excellent  good  reasons :  first,  that  the  death 
might  take  a  man  suddenly  ;  and  second,  for  the  horror 
of  that  great,  salt  smother  and  welter  under  my  foot 
here'' — and  Lawless  stamped  with  his  foot.  "Howbeit," 
he  went  on,  "an  I  die  not  a  sailor's  death,  and  that  this 
night,  I  shall  owe  a  tall  candle  to  our  Lady." 

"Is  it  so?"  asked  Dick. 

"It  is  right  so,"  replied  the  outlaw.  "Do  ye  not  feel 
how  heavy  and  dull  she  moves  upon  the  waves?  Do  ye 
not  hear  the  water  washing  in  her  hold  ?  She  will  scarce 
mind  the  rudder  even  now.  Bide  till  she  has  settled  a  bit 
lower ;  and  she  will  either  go  down  below  your  boots  like 
a  stone  image,  or  drive  ashore  here,  under  our  lee,  and 
come  all  to  pieces  like  a  twist  of  string." 

"Ye  speak  with  a  good  courage,"  returned  Dick.  "Ye 
are  not  then  appalled  ?  " 

"Why,  master,"  answered  Lawless,  "if  ever  a  man  had 
an  ill  crew  to  come  to  port  with,  it  is  I — a  renegade  friar, 
a  thief,  and  all  the  rest  on't.  ^Yell,  ye  may  wonder,  but 
I  keep   a  good  hope  in  my  wallet ;  and  if  that  I  be  to 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  183 

drown,  I  will  drown  with  a  bright  eve,  Master  Shelton, 
and  a  steady  hand." 

Dick  returned  no  answer  ;  but  he  was  surprised  to  fiud 
the  old  vagabond  of  so  resolute  a  temper,  and  fearing 
some  fresh  violence  or  treachery,  set  forth  upon  his  quest 
for  three  sure  men.  The  great  bulk  of  the  men  had  now 
deserted  the  deck,  which  was  contiuually  wetted  with  the 
flyiDg  sprays,  and  where  they  lay  exposed  to  the  shrewd- 
ness of  the  winter  wind.  They  had  gathered,  instead,  into 
the  hold  of  the  merchandise,  among  the  butts  of  wine, 
and  lighted  by  two  swinging  lanterns. 

Here  a  few  kept  up  the  form  of  revelry,  and  toasted 
each  other  deep  in  Arblaster's  Gascony  wine.  But  as  the 
Good  Hope  continued  to  tear  through  the  smoking  waves, 
and  toss  her  stem  and  stern  alternately  high  in  au'  and 
deep  into  white  foam,  the  number  of  these  jolly  compan- 
ions diminished  with  every  moment  and  with  every  lurch. 
Many  sat  apart,  tending  their  hurts,  but  the  majority 
were  already  prostrated  with  sickness,  and  lay  moaning 
in  the  bilge. 

Greensheve,  Cuckow,  and  a  young  fellow  of  Lord 
Foxham's  whom  Dick  had  already  remarked  for  his  in- 
telligence and  spirit,  were  still,  however,  both  fit  to  un- 
derstand and  willing  to  obey.  These  Dick  set,  as  a  bod}'- 
guard,  about  the  person  of  the  steersman,  and  then,  with 
a  last  look  at  the  black  sky  and  sea,  he  turned  and  went 
below  into  the  cabin,  whither  Lord  Foxham  had  been  car- 
ried bv  his  seiwants. 


X84  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

CHAPTER  VL 

THE    GOOD    HOPE    {cORCluded). 

The  moans  of  the  wounded  baron  blended  with  the  wail- 
ing of  the  ship's  dog.  The  poor  animal,  whether  he  was 
merely  sick  at  heart  to  be  separated  from  his  friends,  or 
whether  he  indeed  recognized  some  peril  in  the  labouring 
bf  the  ship,  raised  his  cries,  like  minute-guns,  above  the 
roar  of  wave  and  weather ;  and  the  more  superstitious  of 
the  men  heard,  in  these  sounds,  the  knell  of  the  Good 
Hope. 

Lord  Foxham  had  been  laid  in  a  berth  upon  a  fur  cloak. 
A  little  lamp  burned  dim  before  the  Virgin  in  the  bulk- 
head, and  by  its  glimmer  Dick  could  see  the  pale  counte- 
nance and  hollow  eyes  of  the  hurt  man. 

"lam  sore  hurt,"  said  he.  "Come  near  to  my  side, 
young  Shelton  ;  let  there  be  one  by  me  who,  at  least,  is 
gentle  born  ;  for  after  having  lived  nobly  and  richly  all 
the  days  of  my  life,  this  is  a  sad  pass  that  I  should  get 
my  hurt  in  a  little  ferreting  skirmish,  and  die  here,  in  a 
foul,  cold  ship  upon  the  sea,  among  broken  men  and 
churls." 

"Nay,  my  lord,"  said  Dick,  "I  pray  rather  to  the  saints 
that  ye  will  recover  you  of  your  hurt,  and  come  soon  and 
sound  ashore." 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  185 

''  How !  "  demanded  his  lordship.  "  Come  sound 
ashore  ?     There  is,  then,  a  question  of  it  ?  " 

"The  ship  laboureth — the  sea  is  grievous  and  con- 
trary," repHed  the  lad  ;  "  and  by  what  I  can  learn  of  my 
fellow  that  steereth  us,  we  shall  do  well,  indeed,  if  we 
come  di-yshod  to  land," 

"  Ha !  "  said  the  baron,  gloomily,  ''  thus  shall  every 
terror  attend  upon  the  passage  of  my  soul !  Sir,  pray 
rather  to  live  hard,  that  ye  may  die  easy,  than  to  be 
fooled  and  fluted  all  through  life,  as  to  the  pipe  and 
tabor,  and,  in  the  last  hour,  be  plunged  among  misfor- 
tunes !  Howbeit,  I  have  that  upon  my  mind  that  must 
not  be  delayed.     We  have  no  priest  aboard  ?  " 

''Xone,"  replied  Dick. 

''Here,  then,  to  my  secular  interests,"  resumed  Lord 
Foxham  :  "ye  must  be  as  good  a  friend  to  me  dead,  as  I 
found  you  a  gallant  enemy  when  I  was  living.  I  fall  in 
an  evil  hour  for  me,  for  England,  and  for  them  that 
trusted  me.  My  men  are  being  brought  by  Hamley — he 
that  was  your  rival ;  they  will  rendezvous  in  the  long 
holm  at  Holy  wood  ;  this  ring  from  oil  my  finger  will  ac- 
credit you  to  represent  mine  orders ;  and  I  shall  write, 
besides,  two  words  upon  this  paper,  bidding  Hamley  yield 
to  you  the  damsel.     Will  ye  obey  ?     I  know  not." 

"  But,  my  lord,  what  orders  ?  "  inquired  Dick. 

"  Ay,"  quoth  the  baron,  "  ay — the  orders  ;  "  and  he 
looked  upon  Dick  with  hesitation.  "  Are  ye  Lancaster  or 
York  ?  "  he  asked,  at  len^'th. 


18u  THE    BLACK    ^VRROW. 

"I  shame  to  say  it,"  answered  Dick,  "I  can  scarce 
clearly  answer.  But  so  much  I  think  is  certain  :  since  I 
serve  with  Ellis  Duckworth,  I  serve  the  House  of  York. 
Well,  if  that  be  so,  I  declare  for  York." 

"  It  is  well,"  retui-ned  the  other  ;  "  it  is  exceeding  well. 
For,  truly,  had  ye  said  Lancaster,  I  wot  not  for  the  world 
what  I  had  done.  But  sith  ye  are  for  York,  follow  me. 
I  came  hither  but  to  watch  these  lords  at  Shoreby,  while 
mine  excellent  young  lord,  Eichard  of  Gloucester,*  pre- 
pareth  a  sufficient  force  to  fall  upon  and  scatter  them. 
I  have  made  me  notes  of  their  strength,  what  watch  they 
keep,  and  how  they  lie  ;  and  these  I  was  to  deliver  to  my 
young  lord  on  Sunday,  an  hour  before  noon,  at  St.  Bride's 
Cross  beside  the  forest.  This  tryst  I  am  not  like  to  keep, 
but  I  pray  you,  of  courtesy,  to  keep  it  in  my  stead  ;  and 
see  that  not  pleasui-e,  nor  pain,  tempest,  wound,  nor  pes- 
tilence withhold  you  from  the  hour  and  place,  for  the 
welfare  of  England  lieth  upon  this  cast." 

" I  do  soberly  take  this  upon  me,"  said  Dick.  "In  so 
far  as  in  me  lieth,  your  purpose  shall  be  done." 

"It  is  good,"  said  the  wounded  man.  "My  lord  duke 
shall  order  you  farther,  and  if  ye  obey  him  with  spirit 
and  good  will,  then  is  your  fortune  made.  Give  me  the 
lamp  a  little  nearer  to  mine  eyes,  till  that  I  write  these 
words  for  you." 

*  At  the  date  of  this  story,  Eichard  Crookback  could  not  have 
been  created  Duke  of  Gloucester  ;  but  for  clearness,  with  the 
reader's  leave,  he  shall  so  be  called. 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  187 

He  wrote  a  note  "  to  his  worshipful  kinsman,  Sir  John 
Hamley  ;"  and  then  a  second,  which  he  left  without  ex- 
ternal superscripture. 

*'  This  is  for  the  duke,"  he  said.  "  The  word  is  '  Eng- 
land and  Edward,' and  the  counter,  'England  and  York.'  " 

*'  And  Joanna,  my  lord  ?  "  asked  Dick. 

"Nay,  ye  must  get  Joanna  how  ye  can,"  replied  the 
baron.  *  ■  I  have  named  you  for  my  choice  in  both  these 
letters  ;  but  ye  must  get  her  for  yourself,  boy.  I  have 
tried,  as  ye  see  here  before  you,  and  have  lost  my  life. 
More  could  no  man  do." 

By  this  time  the  wounded  man  began  to  be  very  weary  ; 
and  Dick,  putting  the  precious  papers  in  his  bosom,  bade 
him  be  of  good  cheer,  and  left  him  to  repose. 

The  day  was  beginning  to  break,  cold  and  blue,  with 
flying  squalls  of  snow.  Close  under  the  lee  of  the  Good 
Hope,  the  coast  lay  in  alternate  rocky  headlands  and 
sandy  bays  ;  and  further  inland  the  wooded  hill-tops  of 
Tuustall  showed  along  the  sky.  Both  the  wind  and  the 
sea  had  gone  down  ;  but  the  vessel  wallowed  deep,  and 
scarce  rose  upon  the  waves. 

Lawless  was  still  fixed  at  the  rudder  ;  and  by  this  time 
nearly  all  the  men  had  crawled  on  deck,  and  were  now 
gazing,   with  blank   faces,  upon   the   inhospitable  coast. 

"Are  we  going  ashore  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"Ay,"  said  Lawless,  "unless  we  get  first  to  the  bot* 
torn." 

And  just  then  the  ship  rose  so  languidly  to  meet  a  sea< 


188  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

and  the  water  weltered  so  loudly  in  her  hold,  that  Dick 
involuntarily  seized  the  steersman  by  the  arm. 

"  By  the  mass ! "  cried  Dick,  as  the  bows  of  the  Good 
Hope  reappeared  above  the  foam,  "  I  thought  we  had  foun- 
dered, indeed  ;  my  heart  was  at  my  throat." 

In  the  waist,  Greensheve,  Hawksley,  and  the  better 
men  of  both  companies  were  busy  breaking  up  the  deck 
to  build  a  raft ;  and  to  these  Dick  joined  himself,  working 
the  harder  to  drown  the  memory  of  his  predicament. 
But,  even  as  he  worked,  every  sea  that  struck  the  poor 
ship,  and  evei-y  one  of  her  dull  lurches,  as  she  tumbled 
wallowing  among  the  waves,  recalled  him  with  a  horrid 
l^ang  to  the  immediate  proximity  of  death. 

Presently,  looking  up  from  his  work,  he  saw  that  they 
were  close  in  below  a  promontory  ;  a  piece  of  ruinous 
cliff,  against  the  base  of  which  the  sea  broke  white  and 
heavy,  almost  overplumbed  the  deck ;  and,  above  that, 
again,  a  house  appeared,  crowning  a  down. 

Inside  the  bay  the  seas  ran  gayly,  raised  the  Good 
Hope  upon  their  foam-flecked  shoulders,  earned  her  be- 
yond the  control  of  the  steersman,  and  in  a  moment 
dropped  her,  with  a  great  concussion,  on  the  sand,  and 
began  to  break  over  her  half-mast  high,  and  roll  her  to 
and  fro.  Another  great  wave  followed,  raised  her  again, 
and  carried  her  yet  farther  in  ;  and  then  a  third  succeeded, 
and  left  her  far  inshore  of  the  more  dangerous  breakers, 
wedged  upon  a  bank. 

*'Now,  boys,"  cried  Lawless,  "the  saints  have  had  a 


TTTE    GOOD    HOPE.  189 

care  of  us,  indeed.  The  tide  ebbs  ;  let  us  but  sit  down 
and  drink  a  cup  of  wine,  and  before  half  an  hour  ye  may 
all  mai'ch  me  ashore  as  safe  as  on  a  bridge." 

A  barrel  was  broached,  and,  sitting  in  what  shelter 
thev  could  find  fi'om  the  flying  snow  and  spray,  the  ship- 
wi-ecked  company  handed  the  cup  around,  and  sought  to 
warm  their  bodies  and  restore  their  spirits. 

Dick,  meanwhile,  returned  to  Lord  Foxham,  who  lay  in 
great  perplexity  and  fear,  the  floor  of  his  cabin  washing 
knee-keep  in  water,  and  the  lamp,  which  had  been  his  only 
light,  broken  and  extinguished  by  the  violence  of  the 
blow. 

'•'  My  lord,"'  said  young  Shelton,  "  fear  not  at  all  ;  the 
saints  are  plainly  for  us  ;  the  seas  have  cast  us  high  upon 
a  shoal,  and  as  soon  as  the  tide  hath  somewhat  ebbed,  we 
may  walk  ashore  upon  our  feet." 

It  was  nearly  an  hour  before  the  vessel  was  sufficiently 
desei-ted  by  the  ebbing  sea  ;  and  they  could  set  forth  for 
the  land,  which  appeared  dimly  before  them  through  a 
veil  of  driving  snow. 

ITpon  a  hillock  on  one  side  of  their  way  a  party  of  men 
lay  huddled  together,  suspiciously  observing  the  move- 
ments of  the  new  ariivals. 

"They  might  draw  near  and  ofter  us  some  comfort," 
Dick  remarked. 

"Well,  an'  they  come  not  to  us,  let  us  even  turn 
aside  to  them,"  said  Hawksley.  '•'  The  sooner  we  come  to 
a  good  fire  and  a  diT  bed  the  better  for  my  poor  lord." 


190  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

But  they  had  not  moved  far  in  the  direction  of  the  hil- 
lock, before  the  men,  with  one  consent,  rose  suddenly  to 
their  feet,  and  poured  a  flight  of  well-directed  arrows  on 
the  shipwrecked  company. 

*'Back!  back!"  cried  his  lordship.  "Beware,  in 
Heaven's  name,  that  ye  reply  not." 

"Nay,"  cried  Greensheve,  pulling  an  arrow  from  his 
leather  jack.  "  We  are  in  no  posture  to  fight,  it  is 
certain,  being  drenching  wet,  dog-weary,  and  three-parts 
frozen  ;  but,  for  the  love  of  old  England,  what  aileth  them 
to  shoot  thus  cruelly  on  their  poor  country  people  in  dis- 
tress ?  " 

"They  take  us  to  be  French  pirates,"  answered  Lord 
Foxham.  "In  these  most  troublesome  and  degenerate 
days  we  cannot  keep  our  own  shores  of  England  ;  but  our 
old  enemies,  W'hom  we  once  chased  on  sea  and  land,  do 
now  range  at  pleasure,  robbing  and  slaughtering  and 
burning.  It  is  the  pity  and  reproach  of  this  poor 
land." 

The  men  upon  the  hillock  lay,  closely  observing  them, 
while  they  trailed  upward  from  the  beach  and  wound  in- 
land among  desolate  sand-hills  ;  for  a  mile  or  so  they  even 
hung  upon  the  rear  of  the  march,  ready,  at  a  sign,  to  pour 
another  volley  on  the  weary  and  dispirited  fugitives  ;  and 
it  was  only  when,  striking  at  length  upon  a  firm  high-road, 
Dick  began  to  call  his  men  to  some  more  martial  order, 
that  these  jealous  guai'dians  of  the  coast  of  England  si- 
lently disappeared  among  the  snow.    They  had  done  what 


THE    GOOD    HOPE.  191 

they  desired  ;  they  had  protected  their  own  homes  and 
farms,  their  own  famihes  and  cattle  ;  and  theii'  private  in- 
terest being  thus  secured,  it  mattered  not  the  weight  of  a 
straw  to  any  one  of  them,  although  the  Frenchmen  should 
carry  blood  and  fii'e  to  every  other  paiish  in  the  reahn  of 
England.    - 


BOOK  IV.— THE  DISGUISE. 
CHAPTER  I. 


THE 


The  place  where  Dick  had  struck  the  line  of  a  high- 
road was  not  far  from  Holywood,  and  within  nine  or  ten 
miles  of  Shoreby-on-the-Till ;  and  here,  after  making 
sure  that  they  were  pursued  no  longer,  the  two  bodies  sep- 
arated. Lord  Foxham's  followers  departed,  canning 
their  wounded  master  towards  the  comfort  and  secur- 
ity of  the  great  abbey  ;  and  Dick,  as  he  saw  them  wind 
away  and  disappear  in  the  thick  curtain  of  the  faUing 
snow,  was  left  alone  with  near  upon  a  dozen  outlaws,  the 
last  remainder  of  his  troop  of  volunteers. 

Some  were  wounded  ;  one  and  all  were  furious  at 
their  ill-success  and  long  exposure  ;  and  though  they 
were  now  too  cold  and  hungry  to  do  more,  they  grumbled 
and  cast  sullen  looks  upon  their  leaders.  Dick  emptied 
his  purse  among  them,  leaving  himself  nothing  ;  thanked 
them  for  the  courage  they  had  displayed,  though  he  could 
have  found  it  more  readily  in  his  heart  to  rate  them  for 
poltroonery  ;  and  having  thus  somewhat  softened  the  ef- 
fect of  his  prolonged  misfortune,  despatched  them  to  find 


THE    DEX.  193 

their  way,  either  severally  or  in  pairs,  to  Shoreby  and  the 
Goat  and  Bagpipes. 

For  his  own  part,  influenced  by  what  he  had  seen  on 
board  of  the  Good  Hope,  he  chose  Lawless  to  be  his 
companion  on  the  walk.  The  snow  was  faUing,  without 
pause  or  variation,  in  one  even,  blinding  cloud  ;  the  wind 
had  been  strangled,  and  now  blew  no  longer  ;  and  the  whole 
world  was  blotted  out  and  sheeted  down  below  that  silent 
inundation.  There  was  great  danger  of  wandering  by  the 
way  and  perishing  in  drifts  ;  and  Lawless,  keeping  half  a 
step  in  front  of  his  companion,  and  holding  his  head  for- 
ward like  a  hunting  dog  upon  the  scent,  inquired  liis  way 
of  every  tree,  and  studied  out  their  path  as  though  he  were 
conning  a  ship  among  dangers. 

About  a  mile  into  the  forest  they  came  to  a  place  where 
several  ways  met,  under  a  grove  of  lofty  and  contorted 
oaks.  Even  in  the  narrow  horizon  of  the  falling  snow,  it 
was  a  spot  that  could  not  fail  to  be  recognized  ;  and  Law- 
less e^idently  recognized  it  with  particular  delight. 

"Now,  Master  Kichard,"  said  he,  "an  y' are  not  too 
proud  to  be  the  guest  of  a  man  who  is  neither  a  gentle- 
man by  birth  nor  so  much  as  a  good  Christian,  I  can  of- 
fer you  a  cup  of  wine  and  a  good  fire  to  melt  the  man-ow 
in  your  frozen  bones." 

"Lead  on.  Will,"  answered  Dick.     "A cup  of  wine  and 

a  good  fire!     Nay,  I  would  go  a  far  way  round  to  see 

them." 

Lawless  turned  aside  under  the  bare  branches  of  the 
13 


194  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

grove,  and,  walking  resolutely  forward  for  some  time, 
came  to  a  steepish  hollow  or  den,  that  had  now  drifted  a 
quarter  full  of  snow.  On  the  verge,  a  great  beech-tree 
hung,  precariously  rooted  ;  and  here  the  old  outlaw,  pull- 
ing aside  some  bushy  underwood,  bodily  disappeared  into 
the  earth. 

The  beech  had,  in  some  violent  gale,  been  half-uprooted, 
and  had  torn  up  a  considerable  stretch  of  turf  ;  and  it 
was  under  this  that  old  Lawless  had  dug  out  his  forest 
hiding-place.  The  roots  served  him  for  rafters,  the  turf 
was  his  thatch  ;  for  walls  and  floor  he  had  his  mother  the 
earth.  Rude  as  it  was,  the  hearth  in  one  corner,  blackened 
by  fire,  and  the  presence  in  another  of  a  large  oaken  chest 
well  fortified  with  iron,  showed  it  at  one  glance  to  be  the 
den  of  a  man,  and  not  the  burrow  of  a  digging  beast. 

Though  the  snow  had  drifted  at  the  mouth  and  sifted 
in  upon  the  floor  of  this  earth  cavern,  yet  was  the  air  much 
warmer  than  without ;  and  when  Lawless  had  struck  a 
spark,  and  the  dry  furze  bushes  had  begun  to  blaze  and 
crackle  on  the  hearth,  the  place  assumed,  even  to  the  eye, 
an  air  of  comfort  and  of  home. 

With  a  sigh  of  great  contentment.  Lawless  spread  his 
broad  hands  before  the  fire,  and  seemed  to  breathe  the 
smoke. 

"  Here,  then,'*  he  said,  "  is  this  old  Lawless's  rabbit- 
hole  ;  pray  Heaven  there  come  no  terrier  !  Far  I  have 
rolled  hither  and  thither,  and  here  and  about,  since  that 
I  was  fourteen  years  of  mine  age  and  first  ran  away  from 


THE    DEX.  195 

mine  abbey,  with  the  sacrist's  gold  chain  and  a  mass-book 
that  I  sold  for  four  marks.  I  have  been  in  England  and 
France  and  Burgundy,  and  in  Spain,  too,  on  a  i^ilgrimage 
for  my  poor  soul ;  and  upon  the  sea,  which  is  no  man's 
country.  But  here  is  my  place,  Master  Shelton.  This  is 
my  native  land,  this  burrow  in  the  earth  !  Come  rain  or 
wind— and  whether  it's  April,  and  the  birds  all  sing,  and 
the  blossoms  fall  about  my  bed— or  whether  it's  winter, 
and  I  sit  alone  with  my  good  gossip  the  fire,  and  robin  red 
breast  twitters  in  the  woods — here,  is  my  church  and  mar- 
ket, and  my  wife  and  child.  It's  here  I  come  back  to,  and 
it's  here,  so  please  the  saints,  that  I  would  like  to  die." 

"'Tis  a  warm  corner,  to  be  sui'e,"  replied  Dick,  "  and  a 
pleasant,  and  a  well  hid." 

"  It  had  need  to  be,"  returned  Lawless,  *'  for  an  they 
found  it,  Master  Shelton,  it  would  break  my  heart.  But 
here,"  he  added,  burrowing  with  his  stout  fingers  in  the 
sandy  floor,  "  here  is  my  wine  cellar;  and  ye  shall  have  a 
flask  of  excellent  strong  stingo." 

Sure  enough,  after  but  a  httle  digging,  he  produced  a 
big  leathern  bottle  of  about  a  gallon,  nearly  three-parts  full 
of  a  very  heady  and  sweet  wine  ;  and  when  they  had  drunk 
to  each  other  comradely,  and  the  fire  had  been  replenished 
and  blazed  up  again,  the  pah-  lay  at  full  length,  thawing 
and  steaming,  and  divinely  warm. 

"Master  Shelton,"  observed  the  outlaw,  "y*  'ave  had 
two  mischances  this  last  while,  and  y '  are  like  to  lose  the 
maid — do  I  take  it  aright  ?  " 


196  THE    BLACK    AKKOW. 

*' Ai'ight !  "  returned  Dick,  nodding  his  head. 

"Well,  now,"  continued  Lawless,  "  hear  an  old  fool  that 
hath  been  nigh-hand  everything,  and  seen  nigh-hand 
all !  Ye  go  too  much  on  other  people's  errands.  Master 
Dick.  Ye  go  on  Ellis's ;  but  he  desireth  rather  the  death 
of  Sir  Daniel.  Ye  go  on  Lord  Foxham's  ;  well — the 
saints  preserve  him ! — doubtless  he  meaneth  well.  But  go 
ye  upon  your  own,  good  Dick.  Come  right  to  the  maid's 
side.  Court  her,  lest  that  she  forget  you.  Be  ready  ;  and 
when  the  chance  shall  come,  off  with  her  at  the  saddle- 
bow." 

"Ay,  but.  Lawless,  beyond  doubt  she  is  now  in  Sir 
Daniel's  own  mansion,"  answered  Dick. 

"  Thither,  then,  go  we,"  repHed  the  outlaw. 

Dick  stared  at  him. 

"  Nay,  I  mean  it,"  nodded  Lawless.  "And  if  y'  are  of 
so  little  faith,  and  stumble  at  a  w^ord,  see  here  !  " 

And  the  outlaw,  takiug  a  key  from  about  his  neck,  opened 
the  oak  chest,  and  dij^piog  and  gi'oping  deep  among  its 
contents,  produced  first  a  friar's  robe,  and  next  a  girdle 
of  rope  ;  and  then  a  huge  rosary  of  wood,  heavy  enough 
to  be  counted  as  a  weapon. 

"  Here,"  he  said,  "  is  for  you.     On  with  them  ! " 

And  then,  when  Dick  had  clothed  himself  in  this  cleri- 
cal disguise,  Lawless  produced  some  colours  and  a  pencil, 
and  proceeded,  with  the  greatest  cunning,  to  disguise  his 
face.  The  eyebrows  he  thickened  and  produced  ;  to  the 
D>oustache,  which  was  yet  hardly  visible,  he  rendered  a 


THE   DEN.  107 

like  service  ;  while,  by  a  few  lines  around  the  eye,  he 
changed  the  expression  and  increased  the  apparent  age  of 
this  young  monk. 

"Now,"  he  resumed,  "when  I  have  done  the  like,  we 
shall  make  as  bonny  a  pair  of  friars  as  the  eye  could  wish. 
Boldly  to  Sir  Daniel's  we  shall  go,  and  there  be  hospitably 
welcome  for  the  love  of  Mother  Church." 

"And  how,  dear  Lawless,"  cried  the  lad,  "shall  I  repay 
you?" 

*•  Tut,  brother,"  replied  the  outlaw,  "  I  do  naught  but 
for  my  pleasure.  jMind  not  for  me.  I  am  one,  by  the  mass, 
that  mindeth  for  himself.  When  that  I  lack,  I  have  a 
long  tongue  and  a  voice  like  the  monastery  bell — I  do  ask, 
my  son  ;  and  where  asking  faileth,  I  do  most  usually 
take." 

The  old  rogue  made  a  humorous  grimace  ;  and  although 
Dick  was  displeased  to  lie  under  so  great  favours  to  so 
equivocal  a  personage,  he  was  yet  unable  to  restrain  his 
mirth. 

With  that,  Lawle=:s  returned  to  the  big  chest,  and  was 
soon  similarly  disguised  ;  but,  below  his  gown,  Dick  won- 
dered to  observe  him  conceal  a  sheaf  of  black  arrows. 

"Wherefore  do  ye  that?  "  asked  the  lad.  "  Wherefore 
arrows,  when  ye  take  no  bow  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  replied  Lawless,  lightly,  "  'tis  like  there  will  be 
heads  broke — not  to  say  backs — ere  you  and  I  win  souDd 
from  where  we're  going  to  ;  and  if  any  fall,  I  would  our 
fellowship  should  come  by  the  credit  on't.     A  black  arrow, 


198  THE    BLACK    AEROW. 

Master  Dick,  is  the  seal  of  our  abbey  ;  it  showetli  you  \^ho 
wiit  the  bilL" 

*'An  ye  prepare  so  carefully,"  said  Dick,  "I  have  here 
some  papers  that,  for  mine  own  sake,  and  the  interest  of 
those  that  trusted  me,  were  better  left  behind  than  found 
upon  my  body.     Where  shall  I  conceal  them.  Will?" 

"Nay,"  replied  Lawless,  "  I  will  go  forth  into  the  wood 
and  whistle  me  three  verses  of  a  song  ;  meanwhile,  do  you 
bury  them  where  ye  please,  and  smooth  the  sand  upon 
the  place." 

"Never  !  "  cried  Eichard.  "I  tnist  you,  man.  I  were 
base  indeed  if  I  not  trusted  you." 

"  Brother,  y'  are  but  a  child,"  replied  the  old  outlaw,  paus- 
ing and  turning  his  face  upon  Dick  from  the  threshold  of  the 
den.  '•  I  am  a  kind  old  Chi'istian,  and  no  traitor  to  men's 
blood,  and  no  sparer  of  mine  own  in  a  friend's  jeopardy. 
But,  fool,  child,  I  am  a  thief  by  trade  and  birth  and  habit. 
If  my  bottle  were  empty  and  my  mouth  dry,  I  would  rob 
you,  dear  child,  as  sure  as  I  love,  honour,  and  admire  your 
parts  and  person !     Can  it  be  clearer  spoken?     No." 

And  he  stumped  forth  through  the  bushes  with  a  snap 
of  his  big  fingers. 

Dick,  thus  left  alone,  after  a  wondering  thought  upon 
the  inconsistencies  of  his  companion's  character,  hastily 
produced,  reriewed,  and  buried  his  papers.  One  only  he 
reserved  to  carry  along  with  him,  since  it  in  nowise  com- 
promised his  friends,  and  yet  might  serve  him,  in  a  pinch, 
against  Sir  Daniel.     That  was  the  knight's  own  letter  to 


THE    DEN.  199 

Lord  Wensleydale,  sent  by  Throgmorton,  on  the  morrow 
of  the  defeat  at  Risingham,  and  found  next  day  by  Dick 
upon  the  body  of  the  messenger. 

Then,  treading  down  the  embers  of  the  fii'e,  Dick  left 
the  den,  and  rejoined  the  old  outlaw,  who  stood  awaiting 
him  under  the  leafless  oaks,  and  was  abeady  beginning  to 
be  powdered  by  the  falling  snow.  Each  looked  upon  the 
other,  and  each  laughed,  so  thorough  and  so  di'oll  was  the 
disguise. 

"Yet  I  would  it  were  but  summer  and  a  clear  day," 
grumbled  the  outlaw,  "  that  I  might  see  myself  in  the 
mirror  of  a  pool.  There  be  many  of  Sir  Daniel's  men 
that  know  me  ;  and  if  we  fell  to  be  recognized,  there 
might  be  two  words  for  you,  brother,  but  as  for  me,  in  a 
paternoster  while,  I  should  be  kicking  in  a  rope's-end." 

Thus  they  set  forth  together  along  the  road  to  Shoreby, 
which,  in  this  part  of  its  course,  kept  near  along  the  mar- 
gin of  the  forest,  coming  forth,  from  time  to  time,  in  the 
open  country,  and  passing  beside  poor  folks'  houses  and 
small  farms. 

Presently  at  sight  of  one  of  these,  Lawless  pulled  up. 

"Brother  Martin,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  capitally  dis- 
guised, and  suited  to  his  monkish  robe,  "  let  us  enter  and 
seek  alms  from  these  poor  sinners.  Pax  vobiscum  !  Ay," 
he  added,  in  his  own  voice,  "'tis  as  I  feared  ;  I  have  some- 
what lost  the  whine  of  it ;  and  by  your  leave,  good  Master 
Shelton,  ye  must  suffer  me  to  practise  in  these  country 
places,  before  that  I  risk  my  fat  neck  by  entering  Sir  Dan- 


200  THE   BLACK   AP.ROW. 

iel's.  But  look  ye  a  little,  what  an  excellent  thing  it  is  to 
be  a  Jack-of-all-tracles  I  An  I  had  not  been  a  shipman, 
ye  had  infalHbly  gone  down  in  the  Good  Hope  ;  an  I 
had  not  been  a  thief,  I  could  not  have  painted  me  youi- 
face  ;  and  but  that  I  had  been  a  Grey  Friar,  and  sung 
loud  in  the  chou\  and  ate  hearty  at  the  board,  I  could  not 
have  carried  this  disguise,  but  the  veiy  dogs  would  have 
spied  us  out  and  barked  at  us  for  shams." 

He  was  by  this  time  close  to  the  window  of  the  farm, 
and  he  rose  on  his  tip^toes  and  peeped  in. 

"Xay,"he  cried,  "better  and  better.  We  shall  here 
try  our  false  faces  with  a  vengeance,  and  have  a  merry 
jest  on  Brother  Caj^per  to  boot." 

And  so  saying,  he  opened  the  door  and  led  the  way  into 
the  house. 

Three  of  theu'  own  company  sat  at  the  table,  greedily 
eating.  Their  daggers,  stuck  beside  them  in  the  board, 
and  the  black  and  menacing  looks  which  they  continued 
to  shower  upon  the  people  of  the  house,  proved  that  they 
owed  theii-  entertainment  rather  to  force  than  favour. 
On  the  two  monks,  who  now,  with  a  sort  of  humble  dig- 
nity, entered  the  kitchen  of  the  farm,  they  seemed  to  turn 
with  a  particular  resentment ;  and  one — it  was  John  Cap- 
per in  person — who  seemed  to  play  the  leading  part,  in- 
stantly and  rudely  ordered  them  away. 

"We  want  no  beggars  here  I  "  he  cried. 

But  another — although  he  was  as  far  from  recognizing 
Dick  and  Lawless — inclined  to  more  moderate  counsels. 


THE   DEX.  201 

"Not  SO,"  he  cried.  "We  be  strong  men,  and  take; 
these  be  weak,  and  crave ;  but  in  the  latter  end  these  shall 
be  uppermost  and  we  below.  Mind  him  not,  my  father  ; 
but  come,  drink  of  my  cup,  and  give  me  a  benediction." 

"  Y'  are  men  of  a  light  mind,  carnal,  and  accursed,'' 
said  the  monk.  *'  Now,  may  the  saints  forbid  that  ever  I 
should  drink  with  such  companions  !  But  here,  for  the 
pity  I  bear  to  sinners,  here  I  do  leave  you  a  blessed  relic, 
the  which,  for  your  soul's  interest,  I  bid  you  kiss  and 
cherish."' 

So  far  Lawless  thundered  upon  them  like  a  preaching 
friar  ;  but  with  these  words  he  di'ew  from  under  his  robe 
a  black  arrow,  tossed  it  on  the  board  in  front  of  the  three 
startled  outlaws,  turned  in  the  same  instant,  and,  taking 
Dick  along  with  him,  was  out  of  the  room  and  out  of  sight 
among  the  falling  snow  before  they  had  time  to  utter  a 
word  or  move  a  finger. 

"So,"  he  said,  "we  have  proved  our  false  faces.  Master 
Shelton.  I  will  now  adventure  my  poor  carcase  where  ye 
please." 

"  Good  I  "  returned  Eichard.  "  It  irks  me  to  be  doing. 
Set  we  on  for  Shoreby  !  " 


202  THE   BLACK    ARROW. 


CHAPTEE  n. 


rS'    MDsE    ENEMIES     HOrSE. 


Sir  Daniel's  residence  in  Shoreby  was  a  tall,  commodi- 
ous, plastered  mansion,  framed  in  carven  oak,  and  covered 
by  a  low-pitclied  roof  of  thatch.  To  the  back  there 
stretched  a  garden,  full  of  fruit-trees,  alleys,  and  thick 
arbours,  and  overlooked  from  the  far  end  by  the  tower  of 
the  abbey  church. 

The  house  might  contain,  upon  a  pinch,  the  retinue  of 
a  gi-eater  person  than  Sir  Daniel  ;  but  even  now  it  was 
filled  with  hubbub.  The  court  rang  with  arms  and  horse- 
shoe-iron ;  the  kitchens  roared  with  cookery  like  a  bees'- 
hive  ;  minstrels,  and  the  players  of  instruments,  and  the 
cries  of  tumblers,  sounded  from  the  hall.  Sir  Daniel,  in 
his  profusion,  in  the  gaiety  and  gallantry  of  his  estabHsh- 
ment,  rivalled  with  Lord  Shoreby,  and  echpsed  Lord  Kis- 
ingham. 

All  guests  were  made  welcome.  Minstrels,  tumblers, 
players  of  chess,  the  sellers  of  relics,  medicines,  perfumes, 
and  enchantments,  and  along  with  these  every  sort  of 
priest,  friar,  or  pilgrim,  were  made  welcome  to  the  lower 
table,  and  slept  together  in  the  ample  lofts,  or  on  the 
bare  boards  of  the  long  dining-hall. 

On  the  afternoon  following  the  wreck  of  the  Good  Hope, 
the  buttery,  the  kitchens,  the  stables,  the  covered  cartshed 


that  surrounded  two  sides  of  the  court,  were  all  crowded 
by  idle  people,  partly  belonging  to  Sir  Daniel's  establish- 
ment, and  attired  in  his  livery  of  murrey  and  blue,  pai'tly 
nondescript  strangers  attracted  to  the  town  by  greed,  and 
received  by  the  knight  through  policy,  and  because  it  was 
the  fashion  of  the  time. 

The  snow,  which  still  fell  without  interruption,  the  ex- 
treme chill  of  the  air,  and  the  approach  of  night,  combined 
to  keep  them  under  shelter.  Wine,  ale,  and  money  were 
all  plentiful ;  many  sprawled  gambling  in  the  straw  of  the 
barn,  many  were  still  drunken  from  the  noontide  meal. 
To  the  eye  of  a  modern  it  would  have  looked  like  the  sack 
of  a  city ;  to  the  eye  of  a  contemporary  it  was  like  any 
other  rich  and  noble  household  at  a  festive  season. 

Two  monks — a  young  and  an  old — had  aii-ived  late,  and 
were  now  warming  themselves  at  a  bonfire  in  a  corner  of 
the  shed.  A  mixed  crowd  surrounded  them — jugglers, 
mountebanks,  and  soldiers  ;  and  with  these  the  elder  of 
the  two  had  soon  engaged  so  brisk  a  conversation,  and  ex- 
changed so  many  loud  guftaws  and  country  witticisms,  that 
the  group  momentarily  increased  in  number. 

The  younger  companion,  in  whom  the  reader  has  already 
recognized  Dick  Shelton,  sat  from  the  first  somewhat  back- 
ward, and  gradually  drew  himself  away.  He  listened,  in- 
deed, closely,  but  he  opened  not  his  mouth  ;  and  by  the 
grave  expression  of  his  countenance,  he  made  but  Httle 
account  of  his  companion's  pleasantries. 

At  last  his  eye,  which  travelled  continually  to  and  fro. 


204  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

and  kept  a  guard  upon  all  the  entrances  of  the  house,  lit 
upon  a  little  procession  entering  by  the  main  gate  and 
crossing  the  court  in  an  oblique  direction.  Two  ladies, 
muffled  in  thick  furs,  led  the  way,  and  were  followed  by  a 
pair  of  waiting-women  and  four  stout  men-at-arms.  The 
next  moment  they  had  disappeared  within  the  house  ;  and 
Dick,  slipping  through  the  crowd  of  loiterers  in  the  shed, 
was  already  giving  hot  pursuit. 

"  The  taller  of  these  twain  was  Lady  Brackley,"  he 
thought ;  "  and  where  Lady  Brackley  is,  Joan  will  not  be 
far." 

At  the  door  of  the  house  the  four  men-at-arms  had  ceased 
to  follow,  and  the  ladies  were  now  mounting  the  stairway 
of  jDolished  oak,  under  no  better  escort  than  that  of  the 
two  waiting- women.  Dick  followed  close  behind.  It  was 
already  the  dusk  of  the  day  ;  and  in  the  house  the  darkness 
of  the  night  had  almost  come.  On  the  stair-landings, 
torches  flared  in  iron  holders  ;  down  the  long,  tapestried 
conidors,  a  lamp  burned  by  every  door.  And  where  the 
door  stood  open,  Dick  could  look  in  upon  arras-covered 
walls  and  rush-bescattered  floors,  glowing  in  the  light  of 
the  wood  fires. 

Two  floors  were  passed,  and  at  every  landing  the  younger 
and  shorter  of  the  two  ladies  had  looked  back  keenly  at 
the  monk.  He,  keeping  his  eyes  lowered,  and  affecting 
the  demure  manners  that  suited  his  disguise,  had  but  seen 
her  once,  and  was  unaware  that  he  had  attracted  her  at- 
tention.  And  now,  on  the  third  floor,  the  party  separated. 


"  IN    MIXE    EXEiUES'    HOUSE.'"  205 

the  younger  lady  continuing  to  ascend  alone,  the  other, 
followed  by  the  waiting-maids,  descending  the  corridor  to 
the  right. 

Dick  mounted  with  a  swift  foot,  and  holding  to  the  cor- 
ner, thrust  forth  his  head  and  followed  the  three  women 
with  his  eyes.  Without  turning  or  looking  behind  them, 
they  continued  to  descend  the  corridor. 

"It  is  right  well,"  thought  Dick.  '•'  Let  me  but  know 
my  Lady  Brackley's  chamber,  and  it  will  go  hard  an  I  find 
not  Dame  Hatch  upon  an  errand." 

And  just  then  a  hand  was  laid  upon  his  shoulder,  and, 
with  a  bound  and  a  choked  cry,  he  turned  to  grapple  his 
assailant. 

He  was  somewhat  abashed  to  find,  in  the  person  whom 
he  had  so  roughly  seized,  the  short  young  lady  in  the  fui's. 
She,  on  her  part,  was  shocked  and  terrified  beyond  ex- 
pression, and  hung  trembling  in  his  grasp. 

'•'  Madam,"  said  Dick,  releasing  her,  "I  cry  you  a  thou- 
sand pardons  ;  but  I  have  no  eyes  behind,  and,  by  the  mass, 
I  could  not  tell  ye  were  a  maid." 

The  girl  continued  to  look  at  him,  but,  by  this  time, 
terror  began  to  be  succeeded  by  surprise,  and  sui'prise  by 
suspicion.  Dick,  who  could  read  these  changes  on  her 
face,  became  alarmed  for  his  own  safety  in  that  hostile 
house. 

"Fair  maid,"  he  said,  affecting  easiness,  "suffer  me  to 
kiss  your  hand,  in  token  ye  forgive  my  roughness,  and  I 
will  even  go." 


206  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

"  Y'  are  a  strange  monk,  young  sir,"  returned  the  young 
lady,  looking  him  both  boldly  and  shrewdly  in  the  face  ; 
•'and  now  that  my  first  astonishment  hath  somewhat 
passed  away,  I  can  spy  the  layman  in  each  word  you  utter. 
What  do  ye  here  ?  Why  are  ye  thus  sacreligiously  tricked 
out  ?  Come  ye  in  peace  or  war  ?  And  why  spy  ye  after 
Lady  Brackley  hke  a  thief  ?  " 

'•'Madam,"  quoth  Dick,  ''  of  one  thing  I  pray  you  to  be 
very  sure  :  I  am  no  thief.  And  even  if  I  come  here  in  war, 
as  in  some  degree  I  do,  I  make  no  war  upon  fair  maids, 
and  I  hereby  entreat  them  to  copy  me  so  fai-,  and  to  leave 
me  be.  For,  indeed,  fair  mistress,  cry  out — if  such  be 
your  pleasure — cry  but  once,  and  say  what  ye  have  seen, 
and  the  poor  gentleman  before  j^ou  is  merely  a  dead  man. 
I  cannot  think  ye  would  be  cruel,"  added  Dick  ;  and  tak- 
ing the  girl's  hand  gently  in  both  of  his,  he  looked  at  her 
with  courteous  admiration. 

"  Are  ye,  then,  a  spy— a  Yorkist  ?  "  asked  the  maid. 

"Madam,"  he  replied,  ''I  am  indeed  a  Yorkist,  and,  in 
some  sort,  a  spy.  But  that  which  bringeth  me  into  this 
house,  the  same  which  will  win  for  me  the  pity  and  inter- 
est of  your  kind  heart,  is  neither  of  York  nor  Lancaster.  I 
•will  wholly  put  my  life  in  your  discretion.  I  am  a  lover, 
and  my  name " 

But  here  the  young  lady  clapped  her  hand  suddenly 
upon  Dick's  mouth,  looked  hastily  ujd  and  down  and  east 
and  west,  and,  seeing  the  coast  clear,  began  to  drag  the 
young  man,  with  great  strength  and  vehemence,  up-stairs. 


''  IN  MINK  enemies'  n«  )rsE."  207 

''Hush!  "  she  said,  "and  come  !    'Shalt  talk  hereafter." 

Somewhat  bewildered,  Dick  suffered  himself  to  be 
pulled  ap-stairs,  bustled  along  a  corridor,  and  thrust 
suddenly  into  a  chamber,  lit,  like  so  many  of  the  others, 
by  a  blazing  log  upon  the  hearth. 

'"Now,"  said  the  young  lady,  forcing  him  down  upon  a 
stool,  "sit  ye  there  and  attend  my  sovereign  good  pleas- 
ui'e.  I  have  life  and  death  over  you,  and  I  will  not  scruple 
to  abuse  my  power.  Look  to  yoiu'self;  y'  'ave  cruelly 
mauled  my  ai'm.  He  knew  not  I  was  a  maid,  quoth  he  ! 
Had  he  known  I  was  a  maid,  he  had  ta'en  his  belt  to  me, 
forsooth  ! " 

And  with  these  words,  she  whipped  out  of  the  room 
and  left  Dick  gaping  with  wonder,  and  not  very  sure  if  he 
were  dreaming  or  awake. 

"Ta'en  my  belt  to  her  ! "'  he  repeated.  '•'  Ta'en  my  belt 
to  her  !  "  And  the  recollection  of  that  evening  in  the  for- 
est flowed  back  upon  his  mind,  and  he  once  more  saw 
Matcham's  wincing  body  and  beseeching  eyes. 

And  then  he  was  recalled  to  the  dangers  of  the  present. 
In  the  next  room  he  heard  a  stir,  as  of  a  person  moving  ; 
then  followed  a  sigh,  which  sounded  strangely  near  ;  and 
then  the  rustle  of  skii'ts  and  tap  of  feet  once  more  began. 
As  he  stood  hearkening,  he  saw  the  arras  wave  along  the 
wall ;  there  was  the  sound  of  a  door  being  opened,  the 
hangings  divided,  and,  lamp  in  hand,  Joanna  Sedley 
entered  the  apartment. 

She  was  attired  in  costly  stuffs  of  deep  and  warm  colours, 


208  THE    ELACK    AKROW. 

such  as  befit  the  winter  and  the  snow.  Upon  her  head, 
her  hair  had  been  gathered  together  and  became  her  as  a 
crown.  And  she,  who  had  seemed  so  little  and  so  awk- 
ward in  the  attii'e  of  Matcham,  was  now  tall  like  a  young 
willow,  and  swam  across  the  floor  as  though  she  scorned 
the  drudgery  of  walking. 

Without  a  start,  without  a  tremor,  she  raised  her  lamp 
and  looked  at  the  young  monk. 

"What  make  ye  here,  good  brother?"  she  inquired. 
"  Ye  are  doubtless  ill-directed.  "Whom  do  ye  requii'e  ?  " 
And  she  set  her  lamp  upon  the  bracket. 

*' Joanna,"  said  Dick;  and  then  his  voice  failed  him. 
"Joanna,"  he  began  again,  "ye  said  ye  loved  me  ;  and  the 
more  fool  I,  but  I  believed  it !  " 

"Dick!"  she  cried.     "Dick!" 

And  then,  to  the  wonder  of  the  lad,  this  beautiful  and 
tall  young  lady  made  but  one  step  of  it,  and  threw  her 
arms  about  his  neck  and  gave  him  a  hundred  kisses  all  in 
one. 

"  Oh,  the  fool  fellow  1 "  she  cried.  "  Oh,  dear  Dick  I 
Oh,  if  ye  could  see  yourself  !  Alack  !  "  she  added,  pausing, 
"I  have  spoilt  you,  Dick  !  I  have  knocked  some  of  the 
paint  off.  But  that  can  be  mended.  What  cannot  be 
mended,  Dick — or  I  much  fear  it  cannot ! — is  my  maniage 
with  Lord  Shoreby." 

"Is  it  decided,  then?"  asked  the  lad. 

"To-morrow,  before  noon,  Dick,  in  the  abbey  church," 
she  answered,  "John  Matcham  and  Joanna  Sedley  both 


•'IX    MIXE    EKEMIES'    HOUSE."  209 


shall  come  to  a  riglit  miserable  end.  There  is  no  help  in 
tears,  or  I  could  weep  mine  eyes  out.  I  have  not  spared 
myself  to  pray,  but  Heaven  frowns  on  my  petition.  And, 
dear  Dick— good  Dick— but  that  ye  can  get  me  forth  of 
this  house  before  the  morning,  we  must  even  kiss  and  say 
good-bye." 

"  Nay,"  said  Dick,  "not  I ;  I  will  never  say  that  word. 
'Tis  like  despair ;  but  while  there's  life,  Joanna,  there  is 
hope.  Yet  will  I  hope.  Ay,  by  the  mass,  and  triumph  ! 
Look  ye,  now,  when  ye  were  but  a  name  to  me,  did  I  not 
follow— did  I  not  rouse  good  men— did  I  not  stake  my  life 
upon  the  quarrel?  And  now  that  I  have  seen  you  for 
•what  ye  are— the  fairest  maid  and  statehest  of  England— 
■-.hink  ye  I  would  turn?— if  the  deep  sea  were  there,  I 
would  straight  through  it ;  if  the  way  were  full  of  lions,  I 
would  scatter  them  like  mice." 

"Ay,"  she  said,  dryly,  "ye  make  a  great  ado  about  a 
sky-blue  robe ! " 

"Nay,  Joan,"  protested  Dick,  "'tis  not  alone  the  robe. 
But,  lass,  ye  were  disguised.     Here  am  I  disguised  ;  and, 
to  the  proof,  do  I  not  cut  a  figure  of  fun— a  right  fool's 
figure  ?  " 
'  "  Ay,  Dick,  an'  that  ye  do !  "  she  answered,  smihng. 

"Well,  then!"  he  returned,  triumphant.  "So  was  it 
with  you,  poor  Matcham,  in  the  forest.  In  sooth,  ye  were 
a  wench  to  laugh  at.     But  now  ! " 

So  they  ran  on,  holding  each  other  by  both  hands,  ex- 
changing smiles  and  lovely  looks,  and  melting  minutes  into 
14 


210  THE    BLACK    AEEOW. 

seconds  ;  and  so  they  might  have  continued  all  night  long. 
But  presently  there  was  a  noise  behind  them  ;  and  they 
were  aware  of  the  short  young  lady,  with  her  finger  ou 
her  lips. 

"  Saints  ! "  she  cried,  "  but  what  a  noise  ye  keep  !  Can 
ye  not  speak  in  compass  ?  And  now,  Joanna,  my  fair  maid 
of  the  woods,  what  will  ye  give  your  gossip  for  bringing 
you  your  sweetheart  ?  " 

Joanna  ran  to  her,  by  way  of  answer,  and  embraced  her 
fierily. 

"And  you,  sir,"  added  the  young  lady,  "what  do  ye 
give  me?" 

"Madam,"  said  Dick,  "I  would  fain  offer  to  pay  you  in 
the  same  money." 

"Come,  then,"  said  the  lady,  "it  is  permitted  you." 

But  Dick,  blushing  like  a  peony,  only  kissed  her  hand. 

"What  ails  ye  at  my  face,  fair  sir?"  she  inquired,  curt- 
seying to  the  very  ground  ;  and  then,  when  Dick  had  at 
length  and  most  tepidly  embraced  her,  "Joanna,"  she 
added,  "your  sweetheart  is  very  backward  under  your 
eyes  ;  but  I  warrant  3'ou,  when  first  we  met,  he  was  more 
ready.  I  am  all  black  and  blue,  wench ;  trust  me  never, 
if  I  be  not  black  and  blue  !  And  now,"  she  continued, 
"  have  ye  said  your  sayings  ?  for  I  must  speedily  dismiss 
the  paladin." 

But  at  this  they  both  cried  out  that  they  had  said  noth- 
iug,  that  the  night  was  still  very  young,  and  that  'hey 
would  not  be  separated  so  early. 


211 

"And  supper?"  asked  the  young  lady.  "  Must  we  not 
go  down  to  supper?" 

''  Nay,  to  be  sure  !  "  cried  Joan.     "  I  had  forgotten." 

"Hide  me,  then,"  said  Dick,  "  put  me  behind  the  arras, 
shut  me  in  a  chest,  or  what  ye  will,  so  that  I  may  be  here 
on  your  return.  Indeed,  fair  lady,"  he  added,  "bear  this 
in  mind,  that  we  are  sore  bested,  and  may  never  look 
upon  each  other's  face  from  this  night  forward  till  we 
die." 

At  this  the  young  lady  melted  ;  and  when,  a  little  after, 
the  bell  summoned  Sir  Daniel's  household  to  the  board, 
Dick  was  planted  very  stiffly  against  the  wall,  at  a  place 
where  a  division  in  the  tapestry  permitted  him  to  breathe 
the  more  freely,  and  even  to  see  into  the  room. 

He  had  not  been  long  in  this  position,  when  he  was 
somewhat  strangely  disturbed.  The  silence,  in  that  upper 
storey  of  the  house,  was  only  broken  by  the  flickering  of 
the  flames  and  the  hissing  of  a  green  log  in  the  chimney  ; 
but  presently,  to  Dick's  strained  hearing,  there  came  the 
sound  of  some  one  walking  with  extreme  precaution  ;  and 
soon  after  the  door  opened,  and  a  little  black- faceel, 
dwarfish  fellow,  in  Lord  Shoreby's  colours,  pushed  first  his 
h6ad,  and  then  his  crooked  body,  into  the  chamber.  His 
month  was  open,  as  though  to  hear  the  better  ;  and  his 
eyes,  which  were  very  bright,  flitted  restlessly  and  swiftly 
to  and  fro.  He  went  round  and  round  the  room,  striking 
here  and  there  upon  the  hangings  ;  but  Dick,  by  a  miracle, 
escaped  his  notice.     Then  he  looked  below  the  furniture,* 


212  THE    BLACK    AEEOW. 

and  examined  the  lamp ;  and,  at  last,  with  an  air  of  cruel 

disappointment,  Tvas  preparing  to  go  away  as  silently  as 
he  had  come,  when  down  he  dropped  upon  his  knees, 
picked  up  something  from  among  the  rushes  on  the  floor, 
examined  it,  and,  with  every  signal  of  dehght,  concealed 
it  in  the  wallet  at  his  belt. 

Dick's  heart  sank,  for  the  object  in  question  was  a  tassel 
from  his  own  gii'dle  ;  and  it  was  plain  to  him  that  this 
dwarfish  spy,  who  took  a  mahgn  dehght  in  his  employment, 
would  lose  no  time  in  bearing  it  to  his  master,  the  baron. 
He  was  half-tempted  to  throw  aside  the  arras,  fall  upon 
the  scoundi-el,  and,  at  the  risk  of  his  life,  remove  the  tell- 
tale token.  And  while  he  was  still  hesitating,  a  new  cause 
of  concern  was  added.  A  voice,  hoarse  and  broken  by 
drink,  began  to  be  audible  fi'om  the  stair ;  and  presently 
after,  uneven,  wandering,  and  heavy  footsteps  sounded 
without  along  the  passage. 

"  What  make  ye  here,  my  merry  men,  among  the  green- 
wood shaws  ?  "  sang  the  voice.  "  What  make  ye  here  ? 
Hey  !  sots,  what  make  ye  here  ?  "  it  added,  with  a  rattle  of 
drunken  laughter  ;  and  then,  once  more  breaking  into 
song: 

If  ye  should  drink  the  clary  wine, 

Fat  Friar  John,  ye  friend  o'  mine — 

If  I  should  eat,  and  ye  should  drink, 

"Who  shall  sing  the  mass,  d'ye  think  ?" 

Lawless,  alas  !  rolling  di'unk,  was  wandering  the  house, 
seeking  for  a  corner  wherein  to  slumber  off  the  effect  of 


,'r_esE 


im^ 


OF  THE 

UlTIVERSITT, 


"'IN    MINE    ENEMIES     HOUSE."  213 

his  potation?.  Dick  inwardly  raged.  The  spy,  at  first 
teiTified,  had  grown  reassured  as  he  found  he  had  to  deal 
with  an  intoxicated  man,  and  now,  with  a  movement  of 
cat-hke  rapidity,  slipped  from  the  chamber,  and  was  gone 
from  Richard's  eyes. 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  If  he  lost  touch  of  Lawless  for 
the  night,  he  was  left  impotent,  whether  to  plan  or  cam- 
forth  Joanna's  rescue.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  dared  to 
address  the  drunken  outlaw,  the  spy  might  still  be  linger- 
ing within  sight,  and  the  most  fatal  consequences  ensue. 

It  was,  nevertheless,  uj^on  this  last  hazai'd  that  Dick 
decided.  Slipping  from  behind  the  tapestiy,  he  stood 
ready  in  the  doorway  of  the  chamber,  with  a  warning  hand 
upraised.  Lawless,  flushed  crimson,  with  his  eyes  injected, 
vacillating  on  his  feet,  drew  still  unsteadily  nearer.  At 
last  he  hazily  caught  sight  of  his  commander,  and,  in  de- 
spite of  Dick's  imperious  signals,  hailed  him  instantly  and 
loudly  by  his  name. 

Dick  leaped  upon  and  shook  the  di'unkard  furiously. 

"Beast  I"  he  hissed — "beast  and  no  man  !  It  is  woi-se 
than  treachery  to  be  so  witless.  We  may  all  be  shent  for 
thy  sotting." 

But  Lawless  only  laughed  and  staggered,  and  tried  to 
clap  young  Shelton  on  the  back. 

And  just  then  Dick's  quick  ear  caught  a  rapid  brushing 
in  the  arras.  He  leaped  towards  the  sound,  and  the  next 
moment  a  piece  of  the  wall-hanging  had  been  torn  down, 
and  Dick  and  the  spy  were  sprawling  together  in  its  folds, 


214  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

Over  and  over  thev  rolled,  grappling  for  each  other's 
throat,  and  still  baffled  by  the  arras,  and  stili  silent  in 
their  deadly  fmy.  But  Dick  Tvas  by  much  the  stronger, 
and  soon  the  spy  lay  prostrate  under  his  knee,  and,  with 
^  a  single  stroke  of  the  long  poniard,  ceased  to  breathe. 


CHAPTEE  m. 


THE    DTAD    SPY. 


Throughout  this  fui'ious  and  rapid  passage.  Lawless  had 
looked  on  helplessly,  and  even  when  all  was  oyer,  and 
Dick,  already  re-arisen  to  his  feet,  was  listening  with  the 
most  passionate  attention  to  the  distant  bustle  in  the  lower 
storeys  of  the  house,  the  old  outlaw  was  stiU  wayering  on 
his  legs  like  a  shrub  in  a  breeze  of  wind,  and  still  stupidly 
staring  on  the  face  of  the  dead  man. 

"It  is  well,"  said  Dick,  at  length;  "they  haye  not 
heard  us,  praise  the  saints!  But,  now,  what  ^aU  I  do 
with  this  poor  spy  ?  At  least,  I  will  take  my  tassel  from 
his  wallet." 

So  saying,  Dick  opened  the  wallet ;  within  he  found  a 
few  pieces  of  money,  the  tassel,  and  a  letter  addressed  to 
Lord  Wensleydale,  and  sealed  -with  my  Lord  Shoreby's 
seal.  The  name  awoke  Dick's  recollection  ;  and  he  in- 
stantly broke  the  wax  and  read  the  contents  of  the  letter. 
It  was  short,  but,  to  Dick's  delight,  it  gaye  eyident  proof 


THE    DEAD    SPY.  215 

that  Lord  Shoreby  was  treacherously  corresponding  with 
the  House  of  York. 

The  young  fellow  usually  earned  his  ink-honi  and  im- 
plements about  him,  and  so  now,  bending  a  knee  beside 
the  body  of  the  dead  spy,  he  was  able  to  write  these  words 
upon  a  corner  of  the  paper  : 

Mv  Lord  of  Shoreby,  ye  that  \rritt  the  letter,  wot  ye  why  your 
man  is  ded  ?     But  let  me  rede  you.  marry  not. 

Jox  Amend- ALL. 

He  laid  this  paper  on  the  breast  of  the  corpse  ;  and 
then  Lawless,  who  had  been  looking  on  upon  these  last 
manoeuvres  with  some  flickering  returns  of  inteUigence, 
suddenly  drew  a  black  arrow  from  below  his  robe,  and 
therewith  pinned  the  paper  in  its  place.  The  sight  of 
this  disrespect,  or,  as  it  almost  seemed,  cruelty  to  the 
dead,  drew  a  ci-y  of  horror  from  young  Shelton  ;  but  the 
old  outlaw  only  laughed. 

*'Xay,  i  will  have  the  credit  for  mine  order,"  he  hic- 
cupped. ''  My  jolly  boys  must  have  the  credit  on't — the 
credit,  brother  ; "  and  then,  shutting  his  eyes  tight  and 
opening  his  mouth  like  a  precentor,  he  began  to  thunder, 
in  a  formidable  voice  : 

"  If  ye  should  drink  the  clary  wine  " — 

"  Peace,  sot !  "  cried  Dick,  and  thrust  him  hard  against 
the  wall.     "  In  two  words — if  so  be  that  such  a  man  can 


216  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

understand  me  who  hath  more  wine  than  wit  in  him — in 
two  words,  and,  a-Mary's  name,  begone  out  of  this  house, 
where,  if  ye  continue  to  abide,  ye  will  not  only  hang  your- 
self, but  me  also  !  Faith,  then,  up  foot !  be  yare,  or,  by 
the  mass,  I  may  forget  that  I  am  in  some  sort  your  cap- 
tain and  in  some  your  debtor  !     Go  !  " 

The  sham  monk  was  now,  in  some  degree,  recovering 
the  use  of  his  intelligence  ;  and  the  ring  in  Dick's  voice, 
and  the  glitter  in  Dick's  eye,  stamped  home  the  meaoing 
of  his  words. 

"  By  the  mass,"  cried  Lawless,  "an  I  be  not  wanted, 
I  can  go  ; "  and  he  turned  tipsily  along  the  corridor  and 
proceeded  to  flounder  down-stairs,  lui'ching  against  the 
wall. 

So  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight,  Dick  returned  to  his 
hiding-place,  resolutely  fixed  to  see  the  matter  out.  Wis- 
dom, indeed,  moved  him  to  be  gone  ;  but  love  and  curi- 
osity were  stronger. 

Time  passed  slowly  for  the  young  man,  bolt  upright  be- 
hind the  arras.  The  fire  in  the  room  began  to  die  down, 
and  the  lamp  to  burn  low  and  to  smoke.  And  still  there 
was  no  word  of  the  return  of  any  one  to  these  upper  quar- 
ters of  the  house  ;  still  the  faint  hum  and  clatter  of  the 
supper  party  sounded  from  far  below  ;  and  still,  under  the 
thick  fall  of  the  snow,  Shoreby  town  lay  silent  upon  every 
side. 

At  length,  however,  feet  and  voices  began  to  draw  near 
upon  the  stair ;  and  presently  after  several  of  Sir  Daniel's 


THE  D7:ad  spy.  21  T 

guests  aiTired  upon  the  landing,  and,  turning  down  the 
coiTidor,  beheld  the  torn  arras  and  the  body  of  the 
spy. 

Some  ran  forward  and  some  back,  and  all  together  be- 
gan to  cry  aloud. 

At  the  sound  of  their  cries,  guests,  men-at-arms,  ladies, 
servants,  and,  in  a  word,  all  the  inhabitants  of  that  great 
house,  came  flvincf  from  every  direction,  and  ben^an  to  join 
theii'  voices  to  the  tumult. 

Soon  a  way  was  cleared,  and  Sir  Daniel  came  forth  in 
person,  followed  by  the  bridegroom  of  the  morrow,  my 
Lord  Shoreby. 

'•'  My  lord,"  said  Sir  Daniel,  "  have  I  not  told  you  of  this 
knave  Black  Arrow  ?  To  the  proof,  behold  it !  There  it 
stands,  and,  by  the  rood,  my  gossip,  in  a  man  of  yours,  or 
one  that  stole  your  colours  !  " 

"In  good  sooth,  it  was  a  man  of  mine,"  replied  Lord 
Shoreby,  hanging  back.  "I  would  I  had  more  such.  He 
was  keen  as  a  beagle  and  secret  as  a  mole." 

"Ay,  gossip,  truly?"  asked  Sir  Daniel,  keenly.  "And 
what  came  he  smelling  up  so  many  stairs  in  my  poor  man- 
sion ?     But  he  will  smell  no  more." 

"An  't  please  you,  Su'  Daniel,"  said  one,  "here  is  a 
paper  wiitten  upon  with  some  matter,  pinned  upon  his 
breast." 

"  Give  it  me,  aiTow  and  all,"  said  the  knight.  And  when 
he  had  taken  into  his  hand  the  shaft,  he  continued  for  some 
time  to  gaze  upon  it  in  a  sullen  musing.     "  Ay,"  he  said, 


21^  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

addressing  Lord  Shoreby,  "  here  is  a  hate  that  followeth 
i^rd  and  close  upon  my  heels.  This  black  stick,  or  its 
just  likeness,  shall  yet  bring  me  down.  And,  gossip,  suffer 
a  plain  knight  to  counsel  you  ;  and  if  these  hounds  begin 
to  wind  you,  flee  !  Tis  like  a  sickness — it  still  hangeth, 
hangeth  upon  the  limbs.  But  let  us  see  what  they  have 
written.  It  is  as  I  thought,  my  lord  ;  y'  are  marked,  Hke 
an  old  oak,  by  the  woodman  ;  to-moiTow  or  next  day,  by 
will  come  the  axe.     But  what  wrote  ye  in  a  letter  ?  " 

Lord  Shoreby  snatched  the  paper  from  the  arrow,  read 
it,  crumpled  it  between  his  hands,  and,  overcoming  the  re- 
luctance which  had  hitherto  withheld  him  from  approach- 
ing, threw  himself  on  his  knees  beside  the  body  and 
eagerly  groped  in  the  wallet. 

He  rose  to  his  feet  with  a  somewhat  unsettled  counte- 
nance. 

"  Gossip,"  he  said,  "I have  indeed  lost  a  letter  here  that 
much  imported  ;  and  could  I  lay  my  hand  upon  the  knave 
that  took  it,  he  should  incontinently  grace  a  halter.  But 
let  us,  first  of  all,  secure  the  issues  of  the  house.  Here  is 
enough  harm  already,  by  St.  George  !  " 

Sentinels  were  posted  close  around  the  house  and  gar- 
den ;  a  sentinel  on  every  landing  of  the  stair,  a  whole  troop 
in  the  main  entrance-hall ;  and  yet  another  about  the  bon- 
fire in  the  shed.  Sir  Daniel's  followers  were  supplemented 
by  Lord  Shoreby's  ;  there  was  thus  no  lack  of  men  or  wea- 
pons to  make  the  house  secure,  or  to  entrap  a  lurking 
enemy,  should  one  be  there. 


THE    DEAD    SPY.  219 

Meanwhile,  the  body  of  the  spy  was  carried  out  through 
the  falling  snow  and  deposited  in  the  abbey  church. 

It  was  not  until  these  dispositions  had  been  taken,  and 
all  had  returned  to  a  decorous  silence,  that  the  two  gu*ls 
di'ew  Eichard  Shelton  from  his  place  of  concealment,  and 
made  a  full  report  to  him  of  what  had  passed.  He,  upon 
his  side,  recounted  the  visit  of  the  spy,  his  dangerous  dis- 
covery, and  speedy  end. 

Joanna  leaned  back  very  faint  against  the  curtained 
wall. 

"It  will  avail  but  little,"  she  said.  " I  shall  be  wed  to- 
moiTOw,  in  the  morning,  after  all !  " 

"  What  I  "  cried  her  fnend.  ''  And  here  is  oui-  paladin 
that  driveth  lions  like  mice  !  Ye  have  little  faith,  of  a 
surety.  But  come,  friend  Hon-diiver,  give  us  some  com- 
fort ;  speak,  and  let  us  hear  bold  counsels." 

Dick  was  confounded  to  be  thus  outfaced  with  his  own 
exaggerated  words  ;  but  though  he  coloured,  he  still  spoke 
stoutly. 

"  Truly,"  said  he,  "  we  are  in  straits.  Yet,  could  I  but 
win  out  of  this  house  for  half  an  hour,  I  do  honestly  tell 
myself  that  all  might  still  go  well ;  and  for  the  marriage, 
it  should  be  prevented." 

"And  for  the  hons,"  mimicked  the  girl,  "they  shall  be 
dnven." 

"I  crave  your  excuse,"  said  Dick.  "I  speak  not  now 
in  any  boasting  humour,  but  rather  as  one  inquiring  after 
help  or  counsel ;  for  if  I  get  not  forth  of  this  house  and 


220  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

thi'ough  these  sentinels,  I  can  do  less  than  naught.  Take 
me,  I  pray  you,  rightly." 

"  Why  said  ye  he  was  rustic,  Joan  ?  "  the  girl  inquired. 
"I  warrant  he  hath  a  tongue  in  his  head  ;  ready,  soft, 
and  bold  is  his  speech  at  pleasur-e.  What  would  ye 
more  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  sighed  Joanna,  with  a  smile,  "  they  have  changed 
me  my  friend  Dick,  'tis  sure  enough.  When  I  beheld  him, 
he  was  rough  indeed.  But  it  matters  little  ;  there  is  no 
help  for  my  hard  case,  and  I  must  still  be  Lady  Shoreby  !  " 

"Nay,  then,"  said  Dick,  "I  will  even  make  the  adven- 
ture. A  friar  is  not  much  regarded  ;  and  if  I  found  a  good 
fairy  to  lead  me  up,  I  may  find  another  belike  to  carry  me 
down.     How  call  they  the  name  of  this  spy  ?  " 

"Rutter,"  said  the  young  lady  ;  "and  an  excellent  good 
name  to  call  him  by.  But  how  mean  ye,  lion-driver  ? 
What  is  in  your  mind  to  do  ?  " 

"To  offer  boldly  to  go  forth,"  returned  Dick  ;  "  and  if 
any  stop  me,  to  keep  an  unchanged  countenance,  and  say 
I  go  to  pray  for  Rutter.  They  will  be  praying  over  his 
poor  clay  even  now." 

*'  The  device  is  somewhat  simple,"  replied  the  gii'l,  "yet 
it  may  hold." 

"Nay,"  said  youfig  Shelton,  "it  is  no  device,  but  mere 
boldness,  which  serve th  often  better  in  great  straits." 

"Ye  say  true,"  she  said.  "Well,  go,  a-Mary's  name, 
and  may  Heaven  speed  you  !  Ye  leave  here  a  poor  maid 
that  loves  you  entirely,  and  another  that  is  most  heartily 


THE    DEAD    SPY.  221 

your  friend.  Be  "u-ar j,  for  their  sakes,  and  make  not  ship- 
wreck of  your  safety. " 

"Ay,"  added  Joanna,  ''go,  Dick.  Ye  run  no  more 
2Deril,  whether  ye  go  or  stay.  Go  ;  ye  take  my  heart  with 
you  ;  the  saints  defend  you  !  " 

Dick  passed  the  first  sentry  with  so  assured  a  counten- 
ance that  the  fellow  merely  fidgeted  and  stared  ;  but  at 
the  second  landing  the  man  carried  his  spear  across  and 
bade  him  name  his  business. 

"  Pax  vobiscum,"  ans^Yeved  Dick.  "I  go  to  pray  over 
the  body  of  this  poor  Eutter." 

"Like  enough,"  returned  the  sentry  ;  "but  to  go  alone 
is  not  permitted  you."  He  leaned  over  the  oaken  balus- 
ters and  whistled  shrill.  "One  cometh  !"  he  cried  ;  and 
then  motioned  Dick  to  pass. 

At  the  foot  of  the  stair  he  found  the  guard  afoot  and 
awaiting  his  arrival  ;  and  when  he  had  once  more  repeated 
his  story,  the  commander  of  the  post  ordered  four  men 
out  to  accompany  him  to  the  church. 

"Let  him  not  slip,  my  lads,"  he  said.  "Bring  him  to 
Sir  Oliver,  on  your  lives  !  " 

The  door  was  then  opened ;  one  of  the  men  took  Dick 
by  either  arm,  another  marched  ahead  with  a  link,  and 
the  fourth,  with  bent  bow  and  the  arrow  on  the  string, 
brought  up  the  rear.  In  this  order  they  proceeded  through 
the  garden,  under  the  thick  darkness  of  the  night  and  the 
scattering  snow,  and  di-ew  near  to  the  dimly-illuminated 
windows  of  the  abbey  church. 


222  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

At  the  western  portal  a  picket  of  archers  stood,  taking 
what  shelter  they  could  find  in  the  hollow  of  the  arched 
door\yays,  and  all  powdered  with  the  snow  ;  and  it  was  not 
until  Dick's  conductors  had  exchanged  a  word  with  these, 
that  they  ^vere  suffered  to  pass  forth  and  enter  the  nave 
of  the  sacred  edifice. 

The  church  was  doubtfully  hghted  by  the  tapers  upon 
the  great  altar,  and  by  a  lamp  or  two  that  s^vung  from  the 
arched  roof  before  the  private  chapels  of  illustrious  fami- 
lies. In  the  midst  of  the  choir  the  dead  spy  lay,  his  limba 
piously  composed,  upon  a  bier. 

A  hurried  mutter  of  prayer  sounded  along  the  arches  ; 
cowled  figures  knelt  in  the  stalls  of  the  choir,  and  on  the 
steps  of  the  high  altar  a  priest  in  pontifical  vestments  cel- 
ebrated mass. 

Upon  this  fresh  entrance,  one  of  the  cowled  figures 
arose,  and,  coming  down  the  steps  which  elevated  the 
level  of  the  choir  above  that  of  the  nave,  demanded  from 
the  leader  of  the  four  men  what  business  brought  him  to 
the  church.  Out  of  respect  for  the  service  and  the  dead, 
they  spoke  in  guarded  tones  ;  but  the  echoes  of  that  huge, 
empty  building  caught  up  their  words,  and  hollowly  re- 
peated and  repeated  them  along  the  aisles. 

"  A  monk !  "  returned  Sir  Oliver  (for  he  it  was),  when 
he  had  heard  the  report  of  the  archer.  "My  brother,  I 
looked  not  for  your  coming,'"'  he  added,  turning  to  young 
Shelton.  "  In  all  civility,  who  are  ye  ?  and  at  whose  in- 
stance do  ye.  \oin  your  supplications  to  ours  ?  " 


THE    DEAD    SPY.  223 

Dick,  keeping  his  cowl  about  his  face,  signed  to  Sir 
Oliver  to  move  a  pace  or  two  aside  from  the  archers  ;  and, 
so  soon  as  the  priest  had  done  so,  "I  cannot  hope  to  de- 
ceive you,  sir,"  he  said.      "'  My  life  is  in  youi'  hands." 

Sir  Oliver  violently  started  ;  his  stout  cheeks  grew  pale, 
and  for  a  space  he  was  silent. 

"Eichard,"  he  said,  "what  brings  you  here,  I  know 
not ;  but  I  much  misdoubt  it  to  be  evil.  Nevertheless, 
for  the  kindness  that  was,  I  would  not  willingly  deliver 
you  to  harm.  Ye  shall  sit  all  night  beside  me  in  the 
stalls :  ye  shall  sit  there  till  my  Lord  of  Shoreby  be  mar- 
ried, and  the  party  gone  safe  home  ;  and  if  all  goeth  well, 
and  ye  have  planned  no  evil,  in  the  end  ye  shall  go  whither 
ye  will  But  if  your  purpose  be  bloody,  it  shall  retui'n 
upon  your  head.     Amen  !  " 

And  the  priest  devoutly  crossed  himself,  and  tui-ned  and 
louted  to  the  altar. 

With  that,  he  spoke  a  few  words  more  to  the  soldiers, 
and  taking  Dick  by  the  hand,  led  him  up  to  the  choir, 
and  placed  him  in  the  stall  beside  his  own,  where,  for 
mere  decency,  the  lad  had  instantly  to  kneel  and  appear 
to  be  busy  with  his  devotions. 

His  mind  and  his  eyes,  however,  were  continually  wan- 
dering. Three  of  the  soldiers,  he  observed,  instead  of  re- 
turning to  the  house,  had  got  them  quietly  into  a  point 
of  vantage  in  the  aisle  ;  and  he  could  not  doubt  that  they 
had  done  so  by  Sii'  OHver's  command.  Here,  then,  he  was 
trapped.     Here  he  must  spend  the  night  in  the  ghostly 


224  THE    BLACK   AEEOW. 

glimmer  and  shadow  of  the  church,  and  looking  on  the 
pale  face  of  him  he  slew  ;  and  here,  in  the  morning,  he 
must  see  his  sweetheart  married  to  another  man  before 
his  ejes. 

But,  for  all  that,  he  obtained  a  command  upon  his  mind, 
and  built  himself  up  in  patience  to  await  the  issue. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN   THE   ABBEY   CHURCH. 


In  Shoreby  Abbey  Church  the  prayers  were  kept  up  all 
night  without  cessation,  now  with  the  singing  of  psalms, 
now  with  a  note  or  two  upon  the  bell. 

Rutter,  the  spy,  was  nobly  waked.  There  he  lay,  mean- 
while, as  they  had  arranged  him,  his  dead  hands  crossed 
upon  his  bosom,  his  dead  eyes  staring  on  the  roof ;  and 
hard  by,  in  the  stall,  the  lad  who  had  slain  him  waited,  in 
sore  disquietude,  the  coming  of  the  morning. 

Once  only,  in  the  course  of  the  hours,  Sir  Oliver  leaned 
across  to  his  captive. 

"  Richard,"  he  whispered,  *'  my  son,  if  ye  mean  me  evil, 
I  will  certify,  on  my  soul's  welfare,  ye  design  upon  an  in- 
nocent man.  Sinful  in  the  eye  of  Heaven  I  do  declare 
myself  ;  but  sinful  as  against  you  I  am  not,  neither  have 
been  ever." 

*'  My  father,"  returned  Dick,  in  the  same  tone  of  voice, 


IX    THE   ABBEY    CHUECH.  225 

"  trust  me,  I  design  nothing  ;  but  as  for  your  innocence, 
I  may  not  forget  that  ye  cleared  yourself  but  lamely." 

'  '•'  A  man  may  be  innocently  guilty,"  replied  the  priest. 
*'  He  may  be  set  blindfolded  upon  a  mission,  ignorant  of 
its  true  scope.  So  it  "was  with  me.  I  did  decoy  your  fa- 
ther to  his  death  ;  but  as  Heaven  sees  us  in  this  sacred 
place,  I  knew  not  what  I  did." 

*'  It  may  be,"  returned  Dick.  "  But  see  what  a  strange 
web  ye  have  woven,  that  I  should  be,  at  this  hour,  at  once 
your  prisoner  and  your  judge  ;  that  ye  should  both  threat- 
en my  days  and  deprecate  my  anger.  Methinks,  if  ye  had 
been  all  your  life  a  true  man  and  good  piiest,  ye  would 
neither  thus  fear  nor  thus  detest  me.  And  now  to  youi' 
prayers.  I  do  obey  you,  since  needs  must ;  but  I  will  not 
be  bui'thened  with  your  company." 

The  priest  uttered  a  sigh  so  heavy  that  it  had  almost 
touched  the  lad  into  some  sentiment  of  pity,  and  he  bowed 
his  head  upon  his  hands  hke  a  man  borne  down  below  a 
weight  of  care.  He  joined  no  longer  in  the  psalms  ;  but 
Dick  could  hear  the  beads  rattle  through  his  fingers  and 
the  prayers  a-patteiing  between  his  teeth. 

Yet  a  little,  and  the  grey  of  the  morning  began  to 

struggle  through  the  painted  casements  of  the  church,  and 

to  put  to  shame  the  glimmer  of  the  tapers.     The  light 

slowly  broadened  and  brightened,  and  presently  through 

the  south-eastern   clerestories   a  flush   of  rosy   sunlight 

flickered  on  the  walls.     The  storm  was  over  ;  the  great 

clouds  had  disburdened  their  snow  and  fled  farther  on, 
15 


226  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

and  the  new  day  was  breaking  on  a  merry  winter  land- 
scape sheathed  in  white. 

A  bustle  of  church  officers  followed  ;  the  bier  was  car- 
ried forth  to  the  deadhouse,  and  the  stains  of  blood  were 
cleansed  from  off  the  tiles,  that  no  such  ill-omened  spec- 
tacle should  disgrace  the  marriage  of  Lord  Shoreby.  At 
the  same  time,  the  very  ecclesiastics  w^ho  had  been  so 
dismally  engaged  all  night  began  to  put  on  morning  faces, 
to  do  honour  to  the  merrier  ceremony  w^hich  was  about 
to  follow.  And  further  to  announce  the  coming  of  the 
day,  the  pious  of  the  town  began  to  assemble  and  fall  to 
prayer  before  their  favourite  shrines,  or  wait  their  turn  at 
the  confessionalSo 

Favoured  by  this  stir,  it  was  of  course  easily  possible  for 
any  man  to  avoid  the  vigilance  of  Sir  Daniel's  sentries  at 
the  door  ;  and  presently  Dick,  looking  about  him  wearily, 
caught  the  eye  of  no  less  a  person  than  Will  Lawless,  still 
in  his  monk's  habit. 

The  outlaw,  at  the  same  moment,  recognized  his  leader, 
and  privily  signed  to  him  with  hand  and  eye. 

Now,  Dick  was  far  from  having  forgiven  the  old  rogue 
his  most  untimely  drunkenness,  but  he  had  no  desire  to 
involve  him  in  his  own  predicament ;  and  he  signalled 
back  to  him,  as  plain  as  he  was  able,  to  begone. 

Lawless,  as  though  he  had  understood,  disappeared  at 
once  behind  a  pillar,  and  Dick  breathed  again. 

What,  then,  was  his  dismay  to  feel  himself  plucked  by 
the  sleeve  and  to  and  the  old  robber  installed  beside  liim, 


IX '  THE    ABBEY    CHTRCH.  227 

upon  tlie  next  seat,  and,  to  all  appearance,  plunged  in  liis 
devotions  ! 

Instantly  Sir  Oliver  arose  from  his  place,  and,  gliding 
behind  the  stalls,  made  for  the  soldiers  in  the  aisle.  If 
the  priest's  suspicions  had  been  so  lightly  wakened,  the 
harm  was  akeady  done,  and  Lawless  a  prisoner  in  the 
church. 

"Move  not,"  whispered  Dick.  *'We  are  in  the  plagui- 
est  pass,  thanks,  before  all  things,  to  thy  swinishness  of 
yestereven.  "Wlien  ye  saw  me  here,  so  strangely  seated 
where  I  have  neither  right  nor  interest,  what  a  mur- 
rain !  could  ye  not  smell  hami   and  get  ye   gone   fi'om 

''Nay,"  returned  tawless,  **I  thought  ye  had  heard 
from  Ellis,  and  were  here  on  duty." 

"  EUis  !  "  echoed  Dick.     ''  Is  Ellis,  then,  returned  ?  " 

"  For  sui-e,"  replied  the  outlaw.  "  He  came  last  night, 
and  belted  me  sore  for  being  in  wine — so  there  ye  are 
avenged,  my  master.  A  furious  man  is  Ellis  Duckworth  ! 
He  hath  ridden  me  hot-spur  fi'om  Craven  to  prevent  this 
marriage  ;  and,  Master  Dick,  ye  know  the  way  of  him— 
do  so  he  will  I  " 

"Nay,  then," returned  Dick,  with  composiure,  "you  and 
I,  my  poor  brother,  are  dead  men  ;  for  I  sit  here  a  pris- 
oner upon  suspicion,  and  my  neck  was  to  answer  for  this 
very  mamage  that  he  pui*poseth  to  mar.  I  had  a  fair 
choice,  by  the  rood  !  to  lose  my  sweetheart  or  else  lose 
my  life  !     Well,  the  cast  is  thrown— it  is  to  be  my  life." 


22S  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

*'By  the  mass,"  cried  Lawless,  half  arising,  "I  am 
gone  ! " 

But  Dick  had  his  hand  at  once  upon  his  shoulder. 

"Friend  Lawless,  sit  ye  still,"  he  said.  "An  ye  have 
eyes,  look  yonder  at  the  corner  by  the  chancel  arch  ;  see 
ye  not  that,  even  upon  the  motion  of  your  rising,  yon 
armed  men  are  up  and  ready  to  intercept  you  ?  Yield  ye, 
friend.  Ye  were  bold  aboard  ship,  when  ye  thought  to 
die  a  sea-death  ;  be  bold  again,  now  that  y'  are  to  die 
presently  upon  the  gallows." 

"Master  Dick,"  gasped  Lawless,  "  the  thing  hath  come 
upon  me  somewhat  of  the  suddenest.  But  give  me  a 
moment  till  I  fetch  my  breath  again  ;  and,  by  the  mass,  I 
will  be  as  stout-hearted  as  yourself." 

**  Here  is  my  bold  fellow  I "  returned  Dick.  "  And 
yet.  Lawless,  it  goes  hard  against  the  gi'ain  with  me  to 
die ;  but  where  whining  mendeth  nothing,  wherefore 
whine  ?  " 

" Nay,  that  indeed  !  "  chimed  Lawless.  "And  a  fig  for 
death,  at  worst !  It  has  to  be  done,  my  master,  soon  or 
late.  And  hanging  in  a  good  quarrel  is  an  easy  death, 
they  say,  though  I  could  never  hear  of  any  that  came  back 
to  say  so." 

And  so  saying,  the  stout  old  rascal  leaned  back  in  his 
stall,  folded  his  arms,  and  began  to  look  about  him  with 
the  greatest  air  of  insolence  and  unconcern. 

"And  for  the  matter  of  that,"  Dick  added,  "it  is  yet 
our  best  chance  to  keep  quiet.     We  wot  not  yet  what 


IN    THE    ABBEY    CHTRCH.  229 

Duckworth  purposes  ;  and  when  all  is  said,  and  if  the 
worst  befall,  we  may  yet  clear  our  feet  of  it." 

Now  that  they  ceased  talking,  they  were  aware  of  a  very 
distant  and  thin  strain  of  mirthful  music  which  steadily 
di-ew  nearer,  louder,  and  merrier.  The  bells  in  the  tower 
began  to  break  forth  into  a  doubling  peal,  and  a  greater 
and  gi'eater  concourse  of  people  to  crowd  into  the  church, 
shuffling  the  snow  from  off  their  feet,  and  clapping  and 
blowing  in  their  hands.  The  western  door  was  flung  wide 
open,  showing  a  glimpse  of  sunht,  snowy  street,  and  ad- 
mitting in  a  gi-eat  gust  the  shi-ewd  air  of  the  morning  ; 
and  in  short,  it  became  plain  by  eveiw  sign  that  Lord 
Shoreby  desired  to  be  married  \ery  early  in  the  day,  and 
that  the  wedding-train  was  di'awing  near. 

Some  of  Lord  Shoreby's  men  now  cleared  a  passage 
down  the  middle  aisle,  forcing  the  people  back  with  lance- 
stocks  ;  and  just  then,  outside  the  portal,  the  secular  mu- 
sicians could  be  descried  di-awing  near  over  the  frozen 
snow,  the  fifers  and  trumpeters  scarlet  in  the  face  with 
lusty  blowing,  the  drummers  and  the  cymbalists  beating 
as  for  a  wager. 

These,  as  they  drew  near  the  door  of  the  sacred  build- 
ing, filed  off  on  either  side,  and,  marking  time  to  their  own 
vigorous  music,  stood  stamping  in  the  snow.  As  they 
thus  opened  their  ranks,  the  leaders  of  this  noble  bridal 
train  appeared  behind  and  between  them  ;  and  such  was 
the  variety  and  gaiety  of  their  attire,  such  the  display  of 
silks  and  velvet,  fui'  and  satin,  embroidery  and  lace,  that 


230  THE    ELACK    ARROW. 

the  procession  showed  forth  upon  the  snow  like  a  flower. 
bed  in  a  path  or  a  painted  window  in  a  wall. 

First  came  the  bride,  a  soriy  sight,  as  pale  as  winter, 
clinging  to  Sir  Daniel's  arm,  and  attended,  as  bridesmaid, 
by  the  short  young  lady  who  had  befriended  Dick  the 
night  before.  Close  behind,  in  the  most  radiant  toilet, 
followed  the  bridegroom,  halting  on  a  gouty  foot ;  and  as 
he  passed  the  threshold  of  the  sacred  building  and  doffed 
his  hat,  his  bald  head  was  seen  to  be  rosy  with  emo- 
tion. 

And  now  came  the  hour  of  EUis  Duckworth. 

Dick,  who  sat  stunned  among  contrary  emotions,  grasp- 
ing the  desk  in  front  of  him,  beheld  a  movement  in  the 
crowd,  people  jostling  backward,  and  eyes  and  arms  up- 
lifted. Following  these  signs,  he  beheld  three  or  four  men 
with  bent  bows  leaning  from  the  clerestory  gallery.  At 
the  same  instant  they  delivered  their  discharge,  and  be- 
fore the  clamour  and  cries  of  the  astounded  populace  had 
time  to  swell  fully  upon  the  ear,  they  had  flitted  from 
their  perch  and  disappeared. 

The  nave  was  full  of  swaying  heads  and  voices  scream- 
ing ;  the  ecclesiastics  thronged  in  terror  from  their  places  ; 
the  music  ceased,  and  though  the  bells  overhead  continued 
for  some  seconds  to  clang  upon  the  air,  some  wind  of  the 
disaster  seemed  to  find  its  way  at  last  even  to  the  chamber 
where  the  ringers  were  leaping  on  their  ropes,  and  they 
also  desisted  from  their  merry  labours. 

Right  in  the  midst  of  the  nave  the  bridegroom  lay  stone- 


"^         OFT"-  "^ 


(x;hiversitT| 


TX    THE    ABBEY    CHURCH.  281 

dead,  pierced  by  two  black  arrows.  The  bride  had  fainted. 
Sir  Daniel  stood,  towering  above  the  crowd  in  his  surprise 
and  anger,  a  clothyard  shaft  quivering  in  his  left  forearm, 
and  his  face  streaming  blood  from  another  which  had 
grazed  his  brow. 

Long  before  any  search  could  be  made  for  them,  the 
authors  of  this  tragic  interruption  had  clattered  down  a 
turnpike  stair  and  decamped  by  a  postern  door. 

But  Dick  and  Lawless  still  remained  in  pawn  ;  they  had, 
indeed,  arisen  on  the  first  alarm,  and  pushed  manfully  to 
gain  the  door  ;  but  what  with  the  narrowness  of  the  stalls 
and  the  crowding  of  terrified  priests  and  choristers,  the 
attempt  had  been  in  vain,  and  they  had  stoically  resumed 
theu'  places. 

And  now,  pale  with  hon-or,  Sir  Oliver  rose  to  his  feet 
and  called  upon  Sir  Daniel,  pointing  with  one  hand  to 
Dick. 

*'Here,"  he  cried,  "  is  Kichard  Shelton— alas  the  hour  ! 
—blood  guilty !  Seize  him  !— bid  him  be  seized  I  For 
all  our  lives'  sakes,  take  him  and  bind  him  surely  !  He  hath 
sworn  our  fall." 

Sir  Daniel  was  blinded  by  anger— blinded  by  the  hot 
blood  that  still  streamed  across  his  face. 

"Where?"  he  bellowed.  "Hale  him  forth!  By  the 
cross  of  Holy  wood,  but  he  shall  rue  this  hour  !  " 

The  crowd  fell  back,  and  a  party  of  archers  invaded  the 
choir,  laid  rough  hands  on  Dick,  dragged  him  head  fore, 
most  from  the  stall,  and  thiiist  him  by  the  shoulders  down 


232  THE   BLACK    ARROW. 

the  chancel  steps.  Lawless,  on  his  part,  sat  as  still  as  a 
mouse. 

Sir  Daniel,  brushing  the  blood  out  of  his  eyes,  stared 
blinkingly  upon  his  captive. 

"  Ay,"  he  said,  "  treacherous  and  insolent,  I  have  thee 
fast ;  and  by  all  potent  oaths,  for  every  drop  of  blood  that 
now  trickles  in  mine  eyes,  I  will  wring  a  groan  out  of  thy 
carcase.  Away  with  him  ! "  he  added.  "  Here  is  no  place  ! 
Off  with  him  to  my  house.  I  will  number  ever}^  joint  of 
thy  body  with  a  torture." 

But  Dick,  putting  off  his  captors,  uplifted  his  voice. 

"  Sanctuary  !  "  he  shouted.  "  Sanctuary  !  Ho,  there, 
my  fathers  !     They  would  drag  me  from  the  church  !  " 

*'  From  the  church  thou  hast  defiled  with  murder,  boy," 
added  a  tall  man,  magnificently  dressed. 

"  On  what  probation  ?  "  cried  Dick.  "  They  do  accuse 
me,  indeed,  of  some  complicity,  but  have  not  proved  one 
tittle.  I  was,  in  truth,  a  suitor  for  this  damsel's  hand  ;  and 
she,  I  will  be  bold  to  say  it,  repaid  my  suit  with  favor. 
But  what  then  ?  To  love  a  maid  is  no  offence,  I  trow — 
nay,  nor  to  gain  her  love.  In  all  else,  I  stand  here  free 
from  guiltiness.'* 

There  was  a  murmur  of  approval  among  the  bystanders, 
so  boldly  Dick  declared  his  innocence  ;  but  at  the  same 
time  a  throng  of  accusers  arose  apon  the  other  side,  cry- 
ing how  he  had  been  found  last  night  in  Sir  Daniel's  house, 
how  he  wore  a  sacrilegious  disguise  ;  and  in  the  midst  of 
the  babel.  Sir  Oliver  indicated  Lawless,  both  by  voice  and 


IN    THE    ABBEY    CHUKCH.  233 

gestui'e,  as  accomplice  to  the  fact.  He,  in  his  turn,  "was 
dragged  from  his  seat  and  set  beside  his  leader.  The 
feelings  of  the  crowd  rose  high  on  either  side,  and  while 
some  dragged  the  prisoners  to  and  fro  to  favor  their  es- 
cape, others  cui'sed  and  struck  them  with  their  fists. 
Dick's  ears  rang  and  his  brain  swam  dizzily,  like  a  man 
Btiniggling  in  the  eddies  of  a  furious  river. 

But  the  tall  man  who  had  already  answered  Dick,  by  a 
prodigious  exercise  of  voice  restored  silence  and  order  in 
the  mob. 

"Search  them,"  he  said,  "for  arms,  "We  may  so  judge 
of  theii'  intentions." 

Upon  Dick  they  found  no  weapon  but  his  poniard,  and 
this  told  in  his  favour,  until  one  man  officiously  drew  it 
from  its  sheath,  and  found  it  still  uncleansed  of  the  blood 
of  Eutter.  At  this  there  was  a  great  shout  among  Sir 
Daniel's  followers,  which  the  tall  man  suppressed  by  a 
gestui'e  and  an  imperious  glance.  But  when  it  came  to 
the  turn  of  Lawless,  there  was  found  under  his  gown  a 
sheaf  of  arrows  identical  with  those  that  had  been  shot. 

"  How  say  ye  now?  "  asked  the  tall  man,  frowningly,  of 
Dick. 

"Sir,"  replied  Dick,  "I  am  here  in  sanctuary,  is  it  not 
sc  ?  "Well,  sir,  I  see  by  your  bearing  that  ye  are  high  in 
station,  and  I  read  in  your  countenance  the  marks  of  pi-* 
ety  and  justice.  To  you,  then,  I  will  yield  me  prisoner, 
and  that  bhthely,  foregoing  the  advantage  of  this  holy 
place.     But  rather  than  to  be  yielded  into  the  discretion 


234  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

of  that  man — Tvliom  I  do  here  accuse  v^ith  a  loud  voice  ia 
be  the  murderer  of  my  natural  father  and  the  unjust  de- 
tainer of  my  lands  and  revenues — rather  than  that,  I  would 
beseech  you,  under  favour,  with  your  own  gentle  hand,  to 
despatch  me  on  the  spot.  Your  own  ears  have  heard  him, 
how  before  that  I  was  proven  guilty  he  did  threaten  me 
with  torments.  It  standeth  not  with  your  own  honour  to 
deliver  me  to  my  sworn  enemy  and  old  oppressor,  but  to 
trv  me  fairlv  by  the  way  of  law,  and,  if  that  I  be  "'uiltv  in- 
deed,  to  slay  me  mercifully." 

"My  lord,"  cried  Sir  Daniel,  "ye  will  not  hearken  to 
this  woK  ?  His  bloody  dagger  reeks  him  the  lie  into  his 
face." 

"Nay,  but  suffer  me,  good  knight,"  returned  the  tall 
stranger;  "your  own  vehemence  doth  somewhat  tell 
against  yourself." 

And  here  the  bride,  who  had  come  to  herself  some  min- 
utes past  and  looked  wildly  on  upon  this  scene,  broke  loose 
from  those  that  held  her,  and  fell  upon  her  knees  before 
the  last  speaker. 

"My  Lord  of  Kisingham,"  she  cried,  "hear  me,  in  jus- 
tice. I  am  here  in  this  man's  custody  by  mere  force,  reft 
from  mine  own  people.  Since  that  day  I  had  never  pity, 
countenance,  nor  comfort  from  the  face  of  man — but  from 
him  only — Richard  Shelton — whom  they  now  accuse  and 
labour  to  undo.  My  lord,  if  he  was  yesternight  in  Sir 
Daniel's  mansion,  it  was  I  that  brought  him  there  ;  he 
came  but  at  my  prayer,  and  thought  to  do  no  hurt.     While 


IX    THE    ABBEY    CHURCH.  235 

yet  Sii-  Daniel  was  a  good  lord  to  him,  he  fought  with 
them  of  the  Black  An'ow  loyally  ;  but  when  his  foul  guard- 
ian sought  his  Hfe  by  practices,  and  he  fled  by  night,  for 
his  soul's  sake,  out  of  that  bloody  house,  whither  was  he 
to  turn — he,  helpless  and  penniless  ?  Or  if  he  be  fallen 
among  ill  company,  whom  should  ye  blame — the  lad  that 
was  unjustly  handled,  or  the  guardian  that  did  abuse  his 
trust?" 

And  then  the  short  young  lady  fell  on  her  knees  by 
Joanna's  side. 

"  And  I,  my  good  lord  and  natm-al  uncle,"  she  added, 
*'I  can  beai-  testimony,  on  my  conscience  and  before  the 
face  of  all,  that  what  this  maiden  saith  is  true.  It  was  I, 
unworthy,  that  did  lead  the  young  man  in." 

Earl  Risingham  had  heard  in  silence,  and  when  the 
Toices  ceased,  he  still  stood  silent  for  a  space.  Then  he 
gave  Joanna  his  hand  to  arise,  though  it  was  to  be  ob- 
served that  he  did  not  offer  the  like  courtesy  to  her  who 
had  called  herself  his  niece. 

''Sir  Daniel,"  he  said,  "here  is  a  right  intricate  affair, 
the  which,  with  your  good  leave,  it  shall  be  mine  to  ex- 
amine and  adjust.  Content  ye,  then  ;  your  business  is  in 
careful  hands ;  justice  shall  be  done  you  ;  and  in  the 
meanwhile,  get  ye  incontinently  home,  and  have  your 
hurts  attended.  The  air  is  shrewd,  and  I  would  not  ye 
took  cold  upon  these  scratches." 

He  made  a  sign  with  his  hand ;  it  was  passed  down  the 
nave  by  obsequious  seiTants,  who  waited  there  upon  his 


236  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

smallest  gesture.  Instantly,  without  the  church,  a  tucket 
sounded  shrill,  and  through  the  open  portal  archers  and 
men-at-arms,  uniformly  arrayed  in  the  colours  and  wear- 
ing the  badge  of  Lord  Risingham,  began  to  file  into  the 
chui'ch,  took  Dick  and  Lawless  from  those  who  still  de- 
tained them,  and,  closing  their  files  about  the  prisoners, 
marched  forth  again  and  disappeared. 

As  they  were  passing,  Joanna  held  both  her  hands  to 
Dick  and  cried  him  her  farewell;  and  the  bridesmaid, 
nothing  downcast  by  her  uncle's  evident  displeasure,  blew 
him  a  kiss,  with  a  "Keep  your  heart  up,  lion-driver  I "  that 
for  the  first  time  since  the  accident  called  up  a  smile  to 
the  faces  of  the  crowd. 


CHAPTER  V. 

EAKL  RISINGHAM. 


Earl  Eisingham,  although  by  far  the  most  important 
person  then  in  Shoreby,  was  poorly  lodged  in  the  house 
of  a  private  gentleman  upon  the  extreme  outskirts  of  the 
town.  Nothing  but  the  armed  men  at  the  doors,  and  the 
mounted  messengers  that  kept  arriving  and  departing,  an- 
nounced the  temporary  residence  of  a  gi^eat  lord. 

Thus  it  was  that,  from  lack  of  space,  Dick  and  Lawless 
were  clapped  into  the  same  apartment. 

"Well  spoken,  Master  Richard,"  said  the  outlaw;  "it 


EARL   KISIXGHAM.  237 

was  excellently  well  spoken,  and,  for  my  part,  I  thank  yon 
cordially.  Here  we  are  in  good  hands  ;  we  shall  be  justly 
tried,  and,  some  time  this  evening,  decently  hanged  on  the 
same  tree." 

"Indeed,  my  poor  fiiend,  I  do  believe  it,"  answered 
Dick. 

"Yet  have  we  a  string  to  our  bow,"  returned  Lawless. 
"Ellis  Duckworth  is  a  man  out  of  ten  thousand  ;  he  hold- 
eth  you  right  near  his  heart,  both  for  your  own  and  for 
your  father's  sake  ;  and  knowing  you  guiltless  of  this  fact, 
he  will  stir  earth  and  heaven  to  bear  you  clear." 

"It  may  not  be,"  said  Dick.  "  What  can  he  do?  He 
hath  but  a  handful.  Alack,  if  it  were  but  to-morrow — 
could  I  but  keep  a  certain  tiyst  an  hour  before  noon  to- 
mon-ow — all  were,  I  think,  otherwise.  But  now  there  is 
no  help." 

"Well,"  concluded  Lawless,  "  an  ye  will  stand  to  it  for 
my  innocence,  I  will  stand  to  it  for  yours,  and  that  stout- 
ly. It  shall  naught  avail  us  ;  but  an  I  be  to  hang,  it  shall 
not  be  for  lack  of  swearing." 

And  then,  while  Dick  gave  himself  over  to  his  reflec- 
tions, the  old  rogue  curled  himself  down  into  a  corner, 
pulled  his  monkish  hood  about  his  face,  and  composed 
himself  to  sleep.  Soon  he  was  loudly  snoring,  so  utterly 
had  his  long  life  of  hardship  and  adventure  blunted  the 
sense  of  apprehension. 

It  was  long  after  noon,  and  the  day  was  already  faihng, 
before  the  door  was  opened  and  Dick  taken  forth  and  led 


23S  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

up-stairs  to  where,  in  a  warm  cabinet,  Earl  Risingliam  sat 
musing  over  the  fire. 

On  his  captive's  entrance  he  looked  up. 

''Sir,"  he  said,  "I  knew  vour  father,  who  was  a  man  of 
honour,  and  this  inclineth  me  to  be  the  more  lenient ;  but 
I  may  not  hide  from  you  that  heavy  charges  lie  against 
your  character.  Ye  do  consort  with  murderers  and 
robbers ;  upon  a  clear  probation  ye  have  carried  war 
against  the  king's  peace  ;  ye  are  suspected  to  have  pirati- 
cally seized  upon  a  ship  ;  ye  are  found  skulking  with  a 
counterfeit  presentment  in  your  enemy's  house  ;  a  man  is 
slain  that  very  evening " 

"An  it  like  you,  my  lord,"  Dick  interposed,  "I  will  at 
once  avow  my  guilt,  such  as  it  is.  I  slew  this  fellow  Rut- 
ter  ;  and  to  the  proof  " — searching  in  his  bosom — "  here 
is  a  letter  from  his  wallet." 

Lord  Risingham  took  the  letter,  and  opened  and  read 
it  twice. 

"Ye  have  read  this?"  he  inquired. 

*'  I  have  read  it,"  answered  Dick. 

"  Are  ye  for  York  or  Lancaster  ?  "  the  earl  demanded. 

"My  lord,  it  was  but  a  httle  while  back  that  I  was 
asked  that  question,  and  knew  not  how  to  answer  it,"  said 
Dick  ;  '•  but  having  answered  once,  I  will  not  vary.  My 
lord,  I  am  for  York." 

The  earl  nodded  approvingly. 

"Honestly  replied,"  he  said.  "But  wherefore,  then^ 
deliver  me  this  letter  ?  " 


EAKL    EISI^^GHAM.  23D 

"  Nay,  but  against  traitors,  my  lord,  are  not  all  sides 
arrayed  ?  "  cried  Dick. 

*'  I  would  they  were,  young  gentleman,"  returned  the 
earl  ;  "  and  I  do  at  least  approve  your  saying.  There  is 
more  youth  than  guile  in  you,  I  do  x^erceive  ;  and  were 
not  Sir  Daniel  a  mighty  man  upon  our  side,  I  were  half- 
tempted  to  espouse  your  quarrel.  For  I  have  inquired, 
and  it  appears  ye  have  been  hardly  dealt  with,  and  have 
much  excuse.  But  look  ye,  sir,  I  am,  before  all  else,  a 
leader  in  the  queen's  interest ;  and  though  by  nature  a 
just  man,  as  I  believe,  and  leaning  even  to  the  excess  of 
mercy,  yet  must  I  order  my  goings  for  my  party's  inter- 
est, and,  to  keep  Sir  Daniel,  I  would  go  far  about." 

"My  lord,"  returned  Dick,  "ye  will  think  me  veiy 
bold  to  counsel  you  ;  but  do  ye  count  upon  Sir  Daniel's 
faith?  Methought  he  had  changed  sides  intolerably 
often." 

"Nay,  it  is  the  way  of  England.  What  would  ye 
have  ?  "  the  earl  demanded.  "  But  ye  are  unjust  to  the 
knight  of  Tunstall  ;  and  as  faith  goes,  in  this  unfaith- 
ful generation,  he  hath  of  late  been  honorably  true  to 
us  of  Lancaster.  Even  in  our  last  reverses  he  stood 
firm." 

"An  it  pleased  you,  then,"  said  Dick,  "to  cast  your  eye 
upon  this  letter,  ye  might  somewhat  change  your  thought 
of  him  ;"  and  he  handed  to  the  earl  Sii^  Daniel's  letter  to 
Lord  Wensleydale. 

The  effect  upon  the  earl's  countenance  was  instant ;  he 


W^v 


ji^>  N^i^F.:*^^ 


240  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

lowered  like  an  angry  lion,  and  his  hand,  with  a  sudden 
movement,  clutched  at  his  dagger. 

"  Ye  have  read  this  also  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Even  so,"  said  Dick.  "It  is  your  lordship's  own  es- 
tate he  offers  to  Lord  Wensleydale  ?  " 

"It  is  my  own  estate,  even  as  ye  say ! "  returned  the 
earl.  "I  am  your  bedesman  for  this  letter.  It  hath 
shown  me  a  fox's  hole.  Command  me.  Master  Shelton ; 
I  will  not  be  backward  in  gratitude,  and  to  begin  with, 
York  or  Lancaster,  true  man  or  thief,  I  do  now  set  you  at 
freedom.  Go,  a  Mary's  name  !  But  judge  it  right  that  I 
retain  and  hang  your  fellow,  Lawless.  The  crime  hath 
been  most  open,  and  it  were  fitting  that  some  open  pun- 
ishment should  follow." 

"  My  lord,  I  make  it  my  first  suit  to  you  to  spare  him 
also,"  pleaded  Diqk. 

"It  is  an  old,  condemned  rogue,  thief,  and  vagabond. 
Master  Shelton,"  said  the  earl.  "  He  hath  been  gallows- 
ripe  this  score  of  years.  And,  whether  for  one  thing  or 
another,  whether  to-morrow  or  the  day  after,  where  is  the 
great  choice  ?  " 

"Yet,  my  lord,  it  was  through  love  to  me  that  he  came 
hither,"  answered  Dick,  "  and  I  were  churlish  and  thank- 
less to  desert  him." 

"Master  Shelton,  ye  are  troublesome,"  replied  the  earl, 
severely.  "It  is  an  evil  way  to  prosper  in  this  world. 
Howbeit,  and  to  be  quit  of  your  importunity,  I  will  once 
more  humour  you.     Go,  then,  together ;  but  go  warily, 


AEBLASTEE   AGAIN.  241 

and  get  swiftly  out  of  Shoreby  town.  For  this  Sir  Dan- 
iel (whom  may  the  saints  confound  !)  thirsteth  most  greed- 
ily to  have  youi'  blood." 

"  My  lord,  I  do  now  offer  you  in  words  my  gratitude, 
trusting  at  some  brief  date  to  pay  you  some  of  it  in  ser- 
vice," rephed  Dick,  as  he  tui'ned  from  the  apartment 


CHAPTER  VL 


AEBLASTER   AGAIN. 


When  Dick  and  Lawless  were  suffered  to  steal,  by  a 
back  way,  out  of  the  house  where  Lord  Eisingham  held 
his  garrison,  the  evening  had  already  come. 

They  paused  in  shelter  of  the  garden  wall  to  consult  on 
their  best  course.  The  danger  was  extreme.  If  one  of 
Sir  Daniel's  men  caught  sight  of  them  and  raised  the 
view-hallo,  they  would  be  run  down  and  butchered  in- 
stantly. And  not  only  was  the  town  of  Shoreby  a  mere 
net  of  peril  for  their  lives,  but  to  make  for  the  open  coun- 
try was  to  i-un  the  risk  of  the  patrols. 

A  httle  way  off,  upon  some  open  ground,  they  spied  a 
windmill  standing  ;  and  hard  by  that,  a  very  large  gran* 
ary  with  open  doors. 

'•'  How  if  we  lay  there  until  the  night  fall  ?  "  Dick  pro- 
posed. 

16 


2tl:2  THE    BLACK    AKKOW. 

And  Lawless  having  no  better  suggestion  to  offer,  tbey 
made  a  straight  push  for  the  granary  at  a  run,  and  con- 
cealed themselves  behind  the  door  among  some  straw. 
The  daylight  rapidly  departed  ;  and  presently  the  moon 
was  silvering  the  frozen  snow.  Now  or  never  was  then- 
opportunity  to  gain  the  Goat  and  Bagpipes  unobserved 
and  change  their  tell-tale  garments.  Yet  even  then  it 
was  advisable  to  go  round  by  the  outskirts,  and  not  run 
the  gauntlet  of  the  market-place,  where,  in  the  concourse 
of  people,  they  stood  the  more  imminent  peril  to  be 
recognized  and  slain. 

This  course  was  a  long  one.  It  took  them  not  far 
from  the  house  by  the  beach,  now  lying  dark  and  silent, 
and  brought  them  forth  at  last  by  the  margin  of  the  har- 
bour. Many  of  the  ships,  as  they  could  see  by  the  clear 
moonshine,  had  weighed  anchor,  and,  profiting  by  the 
calm  sky,  proceeded  for  more  distant  parts  ;  answerably  to 
this,  the  rude  alehouses  along  the  beach  (although  in  de- 
fiance of  the  curfew  law,  they  still  shone  with  fire  and 
candle)  were  no  longer  thronged  with  customers,  and  no 
longer  echoed  to  the  chorus  of  sea-songs. 

Hastily,  half-running,  with  their  monkish  raiment 
kilted  to  the  knee,  they  plunged  through  the  deep  snow 
and  threaded  the  labyrinth  of  marine  lumber  ;  and  they 
were  already  more  than  half  way  round  the  harbour  when, 
as  they  were  passing  close  before  an  alehouse,  the  door 
suddenly  opened  and  let  out  a  gush  of  light  upon  their 
fleeting  figures. 


AEBLASTEK    AGAIN.  243 

Instantly  they  stopped,  and  made  believe  to  be  engaged 
in  earnest  conversation. 

Three  men,  one  after  another,  came  out  of  the  alehouse, 
and  the  last  closed  the  door  behind  him.  All  thi'ee  were 
unsteady  upon  their  feet,  as  if  they  had  passed  the  day  in 
deep  ^Dotations,  and  they  now  stood  wavering  in  the 
moonHght,  like  men  who  knew  not  what  they  would  be 
after.  The  tallest  of  the  three  was  talking  in  a  loud,  la- 
mentable voice. 

"Seven  pieces  of  as  good  Gascony  as  ever  a  tapster 
broached,"  he  was  saying,  "  the  best  ship  out  o'  the  port 
o'  Dartmouth,  a  Virgin  Mary  parcel-gilt,  thu'teen  pounds 
of  good  gold  money " 

''I  have  bad  losses,  too,"  interrupted  one  of  the  others. 
"I  have  had  losses  of  mine  own,  gossip  Arblaster.  I  was 
robbed  at  Martinmas  of  five  shillings  and  a  leather  wallet 
well  worth  ninei)ence  farthing." 

Dick's  heart  smote  him  at  what  he  heard.  Until  that 
moment  he  had  not  perhaps  thought  tvrice  of  the  poor 
skipper  who  had  been  ruined  by  the  loss  of  the  Good 
HojDe  ;  so  careless,  in  those  days,  were  men  who  wore 
arms  of  the  goods  and  interests  of  their  inferiors.  But 
this  sudden  encounter  reminded  him  sharply  of  the  high- 
handed manner  and  ill-ending  of  his  enterprise  ;  and 
both  he  and  Lawless  turned  theii'  heads  the  other  way,  to 
avoid  the  chance  of  recognition. 

The  ship's  dog  had,  however,  made  his  escape  from  the 
wreck  and  found  his  way  back  again  to  Shoreby.     He 


2M  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

was  now  at  Arblaster's  heels,  and  suddenly  sniffing  and 
pricking  his  ears,  he  darted  forward  and  began  to  bark 
furiously  at  the  two  sham  friars. 

His  master  unsteadily  followed  him. 

"Hey,  shipmates  !  "  he  cried.  "  Have  ye  ever  a  penny 
piece  for  a  poor  old  shipman,  clean  destroyed  by  pirates  ? 
I  am  a  man  that  would  have  paid  for  you  both  o'  Thursday 
morning  ;  and  now  here  I  be,  o'  Saturday  night,  begging 
for  a  flagon  of  ale  !  Ask  my  man  Tom,  if  ye  misdoubt 
me.  Seven  pieces  of  good  Gascon  wine,  a  ship  that  was 
mine  own,  and  was  my  father's  before  me,  a  Blessed  Mary 
of  plane-tree  wood  and  parcel-gilt,  and  thu'teen  pounds  in 
gold  and  silver.  Hey  !  what  say  ye  ?  A  man  that  fought 
the  French,  too  ;  for  I  have  fought  the  French  ;  I  have 
cut  more  French  throats  upon  the  high  seas  than  ever  a 
man  that  sails  out  of  Dartmouth.     Come,  a  penny  piece." 

Neither  Dick  nor  Lawless  durst  answer  him  a  word, 
lest  he  should  recognize  their  voices ;  and  they  stood 
there  as  helpless  as  a  ship  ashore,  not  knowing  where  to 
turn  nor  what  to  hope. 

"Are  ye  dumb,  boy  ?"  inquired  the  skipper.  "Mates," 
he  added,  with  a  hiccup,  "they  be  dumb.  I  like  not  this 
manner  of  discourtesy  ;  for  an  a  man  be  dumb,  so  be  as 
he's  courteous,  he  will  still  speak  when  he  was  spoken  to, 
methinks." 

By  this  time  the  sailor,  Tom,  who  was  a  man  of  great 
personal  strength,  seemed  to  have  conceived  some  sus- 
picion of  these  two  speechless  figures ;  and  being  soberei 


AEBLASTER    AGAIN.  245 

than  his  captain,  stepped  suddenly  before  him,  took  Law- 
less roughly  by  the  shoulder,  and  asked  him,  with  an 
oath,  what  ailed  him  that  he  held  his  tongue.  To  this  the 
outlaw,  thinking  all  was  over,  made  answer  by  a  wrestling 
feint  that  stretched  the  sailor  on  the  sand,  and,  calling 
upon  Dick  to  follow  him,  took  to  his  heels  among  the 
lumber. 

The  affair  passed  in  a  second.  Before  Dick  could  run 
at  all,  Arblaster  had  him  in  his  arms  ;  Tom,  crawling  on 
his  face,  had  caught  him  by  one  foot,  and  the  third  man 
had  a  drawn  cutlass  brandishing  above  his  head. 

It  was  not  so  much  the  danger,  it  was  not  so  much  the 
annoyance,  that  now  bowed  down  the  spirits  of  young 
Shelton  ;  it  was  the  profound  humiliation  to  have  escaped 
Sir  Daniel,  convinced  Lord  Risingham,  and  now  fall  help- 
less in  the  hands  of  this  old,  drunken  sailor  ;  and  not 
merely  helpless,  but,  as  his  conscience  loudly  told  him 
when  it  was  too  late,  actually  guilty — actually  the  bank- 
rupt debtor  of  the  man  whose  ship  he  had  stolen  and 
lost. 

"Bring  me  him  back  into  the  alehouse,  till  I  see  his 
face,"  said  Arblaster. 

"Nay,  nay,"  returned  Tom;  "but  let  us  first  unload 
his  wallet,  lest  the  other  lads  cry  share." 

But  though  he  was  searched  from  head  to  foot,  not  a 
penny  was  found  upon  him  ;  nothing  but  Lord  Foxham's 
signet,  which  they  plucked  savagely  from  his  finger. 

"Turn  me  him  to  the  m^on,"  said  the  skij)iDer  ;  and 


246  THE    BLACK    APwROW. 

taking  Dick  by  the  chin,  lie  cruelly  jerked  his  head  into 
the  air.     '*  Blessed  Virgin !  "  he  cried,  "  it  is  the  pirate  !  " 

"  Hey  !  "  cried  Tom. 

*'  By  the  Virgin  of  Bordeaux,  it  is  the  man  himself !  " 
repeated  Arblaster.  "What,  sea-thief,  do  I  hold  you?" 
he  cried.  ''Where  is  my  ship?  Where  is  my  wine? 
Hey  !  have  I  you  in  my  hands  ?  Tom,  give  me  one  end 
of  a  cord  here  ;  I  will  so  truss  me  this  sea-thief,  hand  and 
foot  together,  like  a  basting  turkey— many,  I  will  so  bind 
him  up — and  thereafter  I  wall  so  beat — so  beat  him  ! " 

And  so  he  ran  on,  winding  the  cord  meanwhile  about 
Dick's  hmbs  with  the  dexterity  peculiar  to  seamen,  and 
at  every  turn  and  cross  securing  it  with  a  knot,  and 
tightening  the  whole  fabric  with  a  savage  pull. 

When  he  had  done,  the  lad  was  a  mere  package  in  his 
hands— as  helpless  as  the  dead.  The  skipper  held  him  at 
arm's  length,  and  laughed  aloud.  Then  he  fetched  him  a 
stunning  buffet  on  the  ear ;  and  then  turned  him  about, 
and  furiously  kicked  and  kicked  him.  Anger  rose  up  in 
Dick's  bosom  like  a  storm  ;  anger  strangled  him,  and  he 
thought  to  have  died  ;  but  when  the  sailor,  tired  of  this 
cruel  play,  dropped  him  all  his  length  upon  the  sand  and 
turned  to  consult  with  his  companions,  he  instantly  re- 
gained command  of  his  temper.  Here  was  a  momentary 
respite  ;  ere  they  began  again  to  torture  him,  he  might 
have  found  some  method  to  escape  from  this  degrading  and 
fatal  misadventure. 

Presently,  sure  enough,  and  while  his  captors  were  still 


OF  THE  '         \ 

^■aHIVERSITY) 

OP 


AEBLASTER    AGAJN-.  247 

discussing  Tvhat  to  do  with  him,  he  took  heart  of  grace, 
and,  with  a  pretty  steady  voice,  addressed  them. 

*"'My  masters,"  he  began,  "are  ye  gone  clean  fooHsh  ? 
Here  hath  Heaven  put  into  your  hands  as  pretty  an 
occasion  to  grow  rich  as  ever  shipman  had — such  as  ye 
might  make  thirty  over-sea  adventures  and  not  find  again — 
and,  by  the  mass  I  what  do  ye  ?  Beat  me  ? — nay  ;  so 
would  an  angry  child  !  But  for  long-headed  taiTy-Johns, 
that  fear  not  fire  nor  water,  and  that  love  gold  as  they  love 
beef,  methinks  ye  ai-e  not  wise." 

"Ay,"  said  Tom,  "now  y'  are  trussed  ye  would  cozen 
us." 

"  Cozen  you  I  "  repeated  Dick.  "  Xay,  if  ye  be  fools,  it 
would  be  easy.  But  if  ye  be  shi-ewd  fellows,  as  I  trow  ye 
are,  ye  can  see  plainly  where  your  interest  hes.  When  I 
took  your  ship  from  you,  we  were  many,  we  were  well 
clad  and  armed  ;  but  now,  bethink  you  a  Httle,  who  mus- 
tered that  array  ?  One  incontestably  that  hath  much  gold. 
And  if  he,  being  already  rich,  continueth  to  hunt  after 
more  even  in  the  face  of  storms — bethink  you  once  more — ■ 
shall  there  not  be  a  treasui-e  somewhere  hidden  ?" 

"What  meaneth  he  ?"  asked  one  of  the  men. 

*'  Why,  if  ye  have  lost  an  old  skifi'  and  a  few  jugs  of 
vinegary  wine,"  continued  Dick,  "forget  them,  for  the 
trash  they  are  ;  and  do  ye  rather  buckle  to  an  adventure 
worth  the  name,  that  shall,  in  twelve  hours,  make  or  mar 
you  for  ever.  But  take  me  up  from  where  I  lie,  and  let  us 
go  somewhere  near  at  hand  and  talk  across  a  flagon,  for  I 


248  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

am  sore  and  frozen,  and  my  mouth  is  half  among  the 
snow." 

*'  He  seeks  but  to  cozen  us,"  said  Tom,  contemptuously. 

*' Cozen!  cozen!"  cried  the  third  man.  "I  would  1 
could  see  the  man  that  could  cozen  me  !  He  were  a  co- 
zener indeed  !  Nay,  I  was  not  born  yesterday.  I  can  see 
a  church  when  it  hath  a  steeple  on  it  ;  and  for  my  part, 
gossip  Arblaster,  methinks  there  is  some  sense  in  this  young 
man.  Shall  we  go  hear  him,  indeed  ?  Say,  shall  we  go 
hear  him  ?  " 

"  I  would  look  gladly  on  a  pottle  of  strong  ale,  good 
Master  Pirret,"  returned  Ai'blaster.  "  How  say  ye,  Tom  ? 
But  then  the  wallet  is  empty." 

>  "  I  will  pay,"  said  the  other — "I  will  pay.  I  would  fain 
see  this  matter  out ;  I  do  believe,  upon  my  conscience, 
there  is  gold  in  it." 

*'Nay  if  ye  get  again  to  drinking,  all  is  lost!"  cried 
Tom. 

"Gossip  Arblaster,  ye  suffer  your  fellow  to  have  too 
much  liberty,"  returned  Master  Pirret.  "Would  ye  be 
led  by  a  hired  man  ?     Fy,  fy  !  " 

"  Peace,  fellow ! "  said  Arblaster,  addressing  Tom. 
"  Will  ye  put  your  oar  in  ?  Truly  a  fine  pass,  when  the 
crew  is  to  correct  the  skipper  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  go  your  way,"  said  Tom ;  "  I  wash  my 
hands  of  you." 

"  Set  him,  then,  upon  his  feet,"  said  Master  Pirret.  *'I 
know  a  privy  place  where  we  may  drink  and  discourse." 


ARBLA5TER    AGATX.  249 

"  K  I  am  to  walk,  my  friends,  ye  must  set  my  feet  at  lib- 
erty," said  Dick,  when  he  had  been  once  more  planted  up- 
right like  a  post. 

"  He  saith  time,"  laughed  Pirret.  "  Truly,  he  could  not 
walk  accoutred  as  he  is.  Give  it  a  slit — out  with  your 
knife  and  sht  it,  gossip." 

Even  Arblaster  paused  at  this  proposal ;  but  as  his 
companion  continued  to  insist,  and  Dick  had  the  sense  to 
keep  the  merest  wooden  indifference  of  expression,  and 
only  shrugged  his  shoulders  over  the  delay,  the  skipper 
consented  at  last,  and  cut  the  cords  which  tied  his  pris- 
oner's feet  and  legs.  Not  only  did  this  enable  Dick  to 
walk  ;  but  the  whole  network  of  his  bonds  being  pro- 
portionately loosened,  he  felt  the  arm  behind  his  back 
begin  to  move  more  freely,  and  could  hope,  with  time 
and  trouble,  to  entirely  disengage  it.  So  much  he 
owed  already  to  the  owhsh  silliness  and  greed  of  Master 
Pirret. 

That  worthy  now  assumed  the  lead,  and  conducted  them 
to  the  very  same  rude  alehouse  where  Lawless  had  taken 
Arblaster  on  the  day  of  the  gale.  It  was  now  quite  de- 
serted ;  the  fire  was  a  pile  of  red  embers,  radiating  the 
most  ardent  heat  ;  and  when  they  had  chosen  their  places, 
and  the  landlord  had  set  before  them  a  measm^e  of  mulled 
ale,  both  PiiTet  and  Arblaster  stretched  forth  their  legs 
and  squared  their  elbows  like  men  bent  upon  a  pleasant 
hour. 

The  table  at  which  they  sat,  like  all  the  others  in  the 


250  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

alehouse,  consisted  of  a  heavy,  square  board,  set  on  a  pair 
of  barrels  ;  and  each  of  the  four  curiously-assorted  cronies 
sat  at  one  side  of  the  square,  Pirret  facing  Arblaster,  and 
Dick  opposite  to  the  common  sailor. 

"  And  now,  young  man,"  said  Pirret,  "  to  your  tale.  It 
doth  appear,  indeed,  that  ye  have  somewhat  abused  our 
gossip  Arblaster  ;  but  what  then  ?  Make  it  up  to  him — 
show  him  but  this  chance  to  become  wealthy — and  I  will 
go  pledge  he  will  forgive  you." 

So  far  Dick  had  spoken  pretty  much  at  random  ;  but  it 
was  now  necessary,  under  the  supervision  of  six  eyes,  to 
invent  and  tell  some  marvellous  story,  and,  if  it  were  possi- 
ble, get  back  into  his  hands  the  all-important  signet.  To 
squander  time  was  the  first  necessity.  The  longer  his  stay 
lasted,  the  more  would  his  captors  drink,  and  the  surer 
should  he  be  when  he  attempted  his  escape. 

Well,  Dick  was  not  much  of  an  inventor,  and  what  he 
told  was  pretty  much  the  tale  of  Ali  Baba,  with  Shoreby 
and  Tunstall  Forest  substituted  for  the  East,  and  the 
treasures  of  the  cavern  rather  exaggerated  than  diminished. 
As  the  reader  is  aware,  it  is  an  excellent  story,  and  has  but 
one  drawback — that  it  is  not  true  ;  and  so,  as  these  three 
simple  shipmen  now  heard  it  for  the  first  time,  their  eyes 
stood  out  of  their  faces,  and  their  mouths  gaped  like  cod- 
fish at  a  fishmonger's. 

Pretty  soon  a  second  measure  of  mullecl  ale  was  called 
for ;  and  while  Dick  was  still  artfully  spinniag  out  the  inci- 
dents a  third  followed  the  second. 


AEBL ASTER   AGAIN.  251 

Here  was  the  position  of  the  parties  towards  the  end: 
Arblaster,  three-parts  drunk  and  one-half  asleep,  hung 
helpless  on  his  stool.  Even  Tom  had  been  much  delighted 
with  the  tale,  and  his  vigilance  had  abated  in  proportion. 
Meanwhile,  Dick  had  gradually  wormed  Lis  right  arm 
clear  of  its  bonds,  and  was  ready  to  risk  all. 

"  And  so,"  said  Pkret,  "  y'  are  one  of  these  ?" 

"  I  was  made  so,"  rei3lied  Dick,  "  against  my  will ;  but 
an  I  could  but  get  a  sack  or  two  of  gold  coin  to  my  share, 
I  should  be  a  fool  indeed  to  continue  dwelling  in  a  filthy 
cave,  and  standing  shot  and  buffet  like  a  soldier.  Here  be 
we  four  ;  good  !  Let  us,  then,  go  foi-th  into  the  forest  to- 
morrow ere  the  sun  be  up.  Could  we  come  honestly  by  a 
donkey,  it  were  better  ;  but  an  we  cannot,  we  have  our 
four  strong  backs,  and  I  warrant  me  we  shall  come  home 
staggering." 

Pirret  hcked  his  lips. 

"And  this  magic,"  he  said— "this  password,  whereby 
the  cave  is  opened — how  call  ye  it,  friend  ?  " 

*'  Nay,  none  know  the  word  but  the  three  chiefs,"  re- 
turned Dick  ;  "but  here  is  your  great  good  fortune,  that, 
on  this  very  evening,  I  should  be  the  bearer  of  a  spell  to 
open  it.  It  is  a  thing  not  trusted  twice  a  year  beyond  the 
captain's  wallet." 

"A spell !"  said  Arblaster,  half  awakening,  and  squint- 
ing upon  Dick  with  one  eye.  "Aroint  thee  !  no  spells  !  I 
be  a  good  Christian.     Ask  my  man  Tom,  else." 

"Nay,  but  this  is  white  magic,"  said  Dick.     "It  doth 


252  THE    BLACK    ARKOW. 

naught  with  the  devil ;  only  the  powers  of  numbers,  herbs^ 
and  planets." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  said  Pirret ;  "  'tis  but  white  magic,  gossip. 
There  is  no  sin  therein,  I  do  assure  you.  But  proceed, 
good  youth.     This  spell — in  what  should  it  consist?" 

"  Nay,  that  I  will  incontinently  show  you,"  answered 
Dick.  "  Have  ye  there  the  ring  ye  took  from  my  finger ! 
Good  1  Now  hold  it  forth  before  you  by  the  extreme  fin- 
ger-ends, at  the  arm's  length,  and  over  against  the  shin- 
ing of  these  embers.  'Tis  so  exactly.  Thus,  then,  is  the 
spell." 

With  a  haggard  glance,  Dick  saw  the  coast  was  clear  be- 
tween him  and  the  door.  He  put  up  an  internal  prayer. 
Then  whipping  forth  his  arm,  he  made  but  one  snatch  of 
the  ring,  and  at  the  same  instant,  levering  up  the  table,  he 
sent  it  bodily  over  upon  the  seaman  Tom.  He,  poor  soul, 
w^ent  down  bawling  under  the  ruins  ;  and  before  Ai'blaster 
understood  that  anything  was  wrong,  or  Pirret  could  col- 
lect his  dazzled  wits,  Dick  had  run  to  the  door  and  escaped 
into  the  moonlit  night. 

The  moon,  w^hich  now  rode  in  the  mid-heavens,  and  the 
extreme  whiteness  of  the  snow,  made  the  open  ground 
about  the  harbour  bright  as  day  ;  and  young  Shelton  leap- 
ing, with  kilted  robe,  among  the  lumber,  was  a  conspicu- 
ous  figure  from  afar. 

Tom  and  Pirret  followed  him  with  shouts  ;  from  every 
drinking-shop  they  were  joined  by  others  whom  their  cries 
aroused ;  and  presently  a  whole  fleet  of  sailors  was  in  full 


ARBL ASTER    AGAIN.  -53 

pursuit.  But  Jack  ashore  was  a  bad  runner,  even  in  the 
fifteenth  century,  and  Dick,  besides,  had  a  start,  which  he 
rapidly  improved,  until,  as  he  di*ew  near  the  entrance  of  a 
narrow  lane,  he  even  paused  and  looked  laughingly  behind 
him. 

Upon  the  white  floor  of  snow,  all  the  shipmen  of  Shoreby 
came  clustering  in  an  inky  mass,  and  tailing  out  rearward 
in  isolated  clumps.  Every  man  was  shouting  or  scream- 
ino- ;  every  man  was  gesticulating  with  both  arms  in  air  ; 
some  one  was  continually  faUing  ;  and  to  complete  the 
picture,  when  one  fell,  a  dozen  would  fall  upon  the  top  of 
him. 

The  confused  mass  of  sound  which  they  rolled  up  as 
high  as  to  the  moon  was  partly  comical  and  partly  terrify- 
ing to  the  fugitive  whom  they  were  hunting.  In  itself,  it 
was  impotent,  for  he  made  sure  no  seaman  in  the  port  could 
run  him  down.  But  the  mere  volume  of  noise,  in  so  far 
as  it  must  awake  all  the  sleepers  in  Shoreby  and  bring  all 
the  skulking  sentries  to  the  street,  did  really  threaten  him 
with  danger  in  the  front.  So,  spying  a  dark  doorway  at  a 
corner,  he  whipped  briskly  into  it,  and  let  the  uncouth 
hunt  go  by  him,  still  shouting  and  gesticulating,  and  all 
red  with  hurry  and  white  with  tumbles  in  the  snow. 

It  was  a  long  while,  indeed,  before  this  great  invasion 
of  the  town  by  the  harbour  came  to  an  end,  and  it  was 
long  before  silence  was  restored.  For  long,  lost  sailors 
were  still  to  be  heard  pounding  and  shouting  through  the 
streets  in  all  directions  and  in  every  quarter  of  the  town. 


254  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

Quarrels  followed,  sometimes  among  themselves,  some- 
times %Tith  the  men  of  the  patrols  ;  knives  were  drawn, 
blows  given  and  received,  and  more  than  one  dead  body 
remained  behind  upon  the  snow. 

When,  a  full  hour  later,  the  last  seamen  returned  gmm-  | 
blingly  to  the  harbour  side  and  his  particular  tavern,  it  may 
fairly  be  questioned  if  he  had  ever  known  what  manner  of 
man  he  was  pui'suing,  but  it  was  absolutely  sure  that  he 
had  now  forgotten.  By  next  morning  there  were  many 
strange  stories  flying  ;  and  a  little  while  after,  the  legend 
of  the  devil's  nocturnal  visit  was  an  article  of  faith  with  all 
the  lads  of  Shoreby. 

But  the  retm-n  of  the  last  seaman  did  not,  even  yet,  set 
free  young  Shelton  from  his  cold  imprisonment  in  the 
doorway. 

For  some  time  after,  there  was  a  gi'eat  activity  of  pa- 
trols ;  and  special  parties  came  forth  to  make  the  round  of 
the  place  and  report  to-  one  or  other  of  the  great  lords, 
whose  slumbers  had  been  thus  unusually  broken. 

The  night  was  already  well  spent  before  Dick  ventured 
from  his  hiding-place  and  came,  safe  and  sound,  but  ach- 
ing with  cold  and  bruises,  to  the  door  of  the  Goat  and 
Bagpipes.  As  the  law  required,  there  was  neither  fire  nor 
candle  in  the  house  ;  but  he  gi'oped  his  way  into  a  corner 
of  the  icy  guest-room,  found  an  end  of  a  blanket,  which  he 
hitched  around  his  shoulders,  and  creeping  close  to  the 
nearest  sleeper,  was  soon  lost  in  slumber. 


BOOK  V.—CROOKBAOK 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  SHRILL    TRL-ilPET. 

Very  early  the  next  morning,  before  the  first  peep  of  tlie 
day,  Dick  arose,  changed  his  garments,  armed  himself 
once  more  like  a  gentleman,  and  set  forth  for  Lawless's 
den  in  the  forest.  There,  it  will  be  remembered,  he  had 
left  Lord  Foxham's  papers  ;  and  to  get  these  and  be  back 
in  time  for  the  tryst  with  the  young  Duke  of  Gloucester 
could  only  be  managed  by  an  early  start  and  the  most 
vigorous  walking. 

The  frost  was  more  rigorous  than  ever  ;  the  air  wind- 
less and  dry,  and  stinging  to  the  nostril.  The  moon  had 
gone  down,  but  the  stars  were  still  bright  and  numerous, 
and  the  reflection  from  the  snow  was  clear  and  cheerful. 
There  was  no  need  for  a  lamp  to  walk  by  ;  nor,  in  that 
still  but  i-inging  air,  the  least  temptation  to  delay. 

Dick  had  crossed  the  greater  part  of  the  open  gi-ound 
between  Shoreby  and  the  forest,  and  had  reached  the 
bottom  of  the  little  hill,  some  hundred  yards  below  the 
Cross  of  St.  Bride,  when,  through  the  stillness  of  the 
black  morn,  there  rang  forth  the  note  of  a  trumpet,  so 


256  THE   BLACK    ARROW. 

shrill,  clear,  and  piercing,  that  he  thought  he  had  never 
heard  the  match  of  it  for  audibility.  It  was  blown  once, 
and  then  hurriedly  a  second  time  ;  and  then  the  clash  of 
steel  succeeded. 

At  this  young  Shelton  pricked  his  ears,  and  drawing 
his  sword,  ran  forward  up  the  hill. 

Presently  he  came  in  sight  of  the  cross,  and  was  aware 
of  a  most  fierce  encounter  raging  on  the  road  before  it. 
There  were  seven  or  eight  assailants,  and  but  one  to  keep 
head  against  them  ;  but  so  active  and  dexterous  was  this 
one,  so  desperately  did  he  charge  and  scatter  his  oppo- 
nents, so  deftly  keep  his  footing  on  the  ice,  that  already, 
before  Dick  could  intervene,  he  had  slain  one,  wounded 
another,  and  kept  the  whole  in  check. 

■  Still,  it  was  by  a  miracle  that  he  continued  his  defence, 
and  at  any  moment,  any  accident,  the  least  slip  of  foot  or 
error  of  hand,  his  life  would  be  a  forfeit. 

"Hold  ye  well,  sir!  Here  is  help!"  cried  Eichard ; 
and  forgetting  that  he  was  alone,  and  that  the  cry  was 
somewhat  irregular,  '*To  the  Arrow  !  to  the  Arrow  ! "  he 
shouted,  as  he  fell  upon  the  rear  of  the  assailants. 

These  were  stout  fellows  also,  for  they  gave  not  an  inch 
at  this  surprise,  but  faced  about,  and  fell  with  astonishing 
fury  upon  Dick.  Four  against  one,  the  steel  flashed  about 
him  in  the  starlight ;  the  sparks  flew  fiercely  ;  one  of  the 
men  opposed  to  him  fell — in  the  stir  of  the  fight  he 
hardly  knew  why  ;  then  he  himself  was  struck  across  the 
head,  and  though  the  steel  cap  below  his  hood  protected 


'■  OF  THE  '  \ 

.  XjiqivERSITT/ 


THE    SHRILL    TRUMPET.  257 

him,  the  blow  beat  him  down  upon  one  knee,  with  a  brain 
whirHng  like  a  windmill  sail. 

Meanwhile  the  man  whom  he  had  come  to  rescue,  in- 
stead of  joining  in  the  conflict,  had,  on  the  first  sign  of 
intervention,  leaped  aback  and  blown  again,  and  yet  more 
urgently  and  loudly,  on  that  same  shrill-voiced  trumpet 
that  began  the  alarm.  Next  moment,  indeed,  his  foes 
were  on  him,  and  he  was  once  more  charging  and  fleeing, 
leaping,  stabbing,  dropping  to  his  knee,  and  using  indif- 
ferently sword  and  dagger,  foot  and  hand,  with  the  same 
unshaken  courage  and  feverish  energy  and  speed. 

But  that  ear-piercing  summons  had  been  heard  at  last. 
There  was  a  muffled  rushing  in  the  snow  ;  and  in  a  good 
hour  for  Dick,  who  saw  the  sword-points  glitter  already  at 
his  throat,  there  poured  forth  out  of  the  wood  upon  both 
sides  a  disorderly  torrent  of  mounted  men-at-arms,  each 
cased  in  iron,  and  with  visor  lowered,  each  bearing  his 
lance  in  rest,  or  his  sword  bared  and  raised,  and  each 
carrying,  so  to  speak,  a  passenger,  in  the  shape  of  an 
archer  or  page,  who  leaped  one  after  another  from  their 
perches,  and  had  presently  doubled  the  array. 

The  original  assailants,  seeing  themselves  outnumbered 
and  surrounded,  threw  down  their  ai-ms  without  a  word. 

''Seize  me  these  fellows  I"  said  the  hero  of  the  trumpet; 
and  when  his  order  had  been  obeyed,  he  drew  near  to 
Dick  and  looked  him  in  the  face. 

Dick,  returning  this  scrutiny,  was  surprised  to  find  in 

one  who  had  displayed  such  strength,  skill  and  energy,  a 
17 


258  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

lad  no  older  than  himself — slightly  deformed,  with  one 
shoulder  higher  than  the  other,  and  of  a  pale,  painful, 
and  distorted  countenance."^  The  eyes,  however,  were 
very  clear  and  bold. 

*'  Sir,"  said  this  lad,  "  ye  came  in  good  time  for  me,  and 
none  too  early." 

"My  lord,"  returned  Dick,  with  a  faint  sensQ  that  he 
was  in  the  presence  of  a  great  personage,  ''  ye  are  your- 
self so  marvellous  a  good  swordsman  that  I  believe  ye 
had  managed  them  single-handed.  Howbeit,  it  was  cer- 
tainly well  for  me  that  your  men  delayed  no  longer  than 
they  did." 

"  How  knew  ye  who  I  was  ?  "  demanded  the  stranger. 

"  Even  now,  my  lord,"  Dick  answered,  "  I  am  ignorant 
of  whom  I  speak  with." 

*'  Is  it  so  ?  "  asked  the  other.  "  And  yet  ye  threw  your- 
self head  first  into  this  unequal  battle." 

*'I  saw  one  man  valiantly  contending  against  many," 
replied  Dick,  "  and  I  had  thought  myself  dishonoured  not 
to  bear  him  aid." 

A  singular  sneer  played  about  the  young  nobleman's 
mouth  as  he  made  answer  : 

*'  These  are  very  brave  words.  But  to  the  more  essen- 
tial— are  ye  Lancaster  or  York  ?  " 

"  My  lord,  I  make  no  secret ;  I  am  clear  for  York,* 
Dick  answered. 

*  Richard  Crookback  would  have  been  really  far  younger  at  this 
date. 


THP.    SITRTLL    TRF^rPT^T.  259 

**Bf  the  mass  !  "replied  the  other,  "  it  is  well  for  you." 

And  so  saving,  he  turned  towards  one  of  his  followers. 

'•'Let  me  see,"  he  continued,  in  the  same  sneering  and 
cruel  tones — ''let  me  see  a  clean  end  of  these  brave  gen- 
tlemen.    Truss  me  them  up." 

There  were  but  five  survivors  of  the  attacking  party. 
Ai'chers  seized  them  by  the  arms ;  they  were  hunied  to 
the  borders  of  the  wood,  and  each  placed  below  a  tree  of 
suitable  dimension  ;  the  rope  was  adjusted  ;  an  archer, 
canying  the  end  of  it,  hastily  clambered  overhead;  and 
before  a  minute  was  over,  and  without  a  word  passing 
upon  either  hand,  the  five  men  were  swinging  by  the 
neck. 

'•  And  now,"  cried  the  deformed  leader,  "back  to  your 
posts,  and  when  I  summon  you  next,  be  readier  to  at- 
tend." 

"My  lord  duke,"  said  one  man,  "beseech  you,  tarry 
not  here  alone.  Keep  but  a  handful  of  lances  at  your 
hand." 

"Fellow,"  said  the  duke,  "I  have  forborne  to  chide  you 
for  your  slowness.  Cross  me  not,  therefore.  I  trust  my 
hand  and  arm,  for  all  that  I  be  crooked.  Ye  were  back- 
ward when  the  trumpet  sounded  ;  and^^e^  are  now  too  for- 
ward with  your  counsels.  But  it  is  ever  so  ;  last  with  the 
lance  and  first  with  tongue.     Let  it  be  reversed." 

And  with  a  gesture  that  was  not  without  a  sort  of  dan- 
gerous nobility,  he  waved  them  off. 

The  footmen  chmbed  again  to  their  seats  behind  the 


260  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

inen-£f(i-arms,  and  the  ^Yhole  party  moved  slowly  away  and 
disappeared  in  twenty  different  directions,  under  the  cover 
of  the  forest. 

The  day  was  by  this  time  beginning  to  break,  and  the 
stars  to  fade.  The  first  grey  glimmer  of  dawn  shone  upon 
the  countenances  of  the  two  young  men,  who  now  turned 
once  more  to  face  each  other. 

"Here,"  said  the  duke,  "ye  have  seen  my  vengeance, 
which  is,  like  my  blade,  both  sharp  and  ready.  But  I 
would  not  have  you,  for  all  Christendom,  suppose  me 
thankless.  You  that  came  to  my  aid  with  a  good  sword 
and  a  better  courage — unless  that  ye  recoil  from  my  mis- 
shapenness — come  to  my  heart." 

And  so  saying,  the  young  leader  held  out  his  arms  for 
an  embrace. 

In  the  bottom  of  his  heart  Dick  already  entertained  a 
great  terror  and  some  hatred  for  the  man  whom  he  had 
rescued ;  but  the  invitation  was  so  worded  that  it  would 
not  have  been  merely  discourteous,  but  cruel,  to  refuse  or 
hesitate  ;  and  he  hastened  to  comply. 

"And  now,  my  lord  duke,"  he  said,  when  he  had  re- 
gained his  freedom, " do  I  suppose  aright?  Are  ye  my 
Lord  Duke  of  Gloucester  ?  " 

*'I  am  Eichard  of  Gloucester,"  returned  the  other. 
"And  you — how  call  they  you  ?  " 

Dick  told  him  his  name,  and  presented  Lord  Foxham'g 
signet,  which  the  duke  immediately  recognized. 

"Ye  come  too  soon,"  he  said ;  "  but  why  should  I  com- 


THE    SHRILL    TRUilPET.  263 

plain  ?  Ye  are  like  me,  that  was  here  at  watch  two  hours 
before  the  day.  But  this  is  the  first  sally  of  mine  arms ; 
upcn  this  adventure,  Master  Shelton,  shall  I  make  or  mar 
the  quahty  of  my  renown.  There  lie  mine  enemies,  under 
two  old,  skilled  captains — Bisingham  and  Brackley — well 
posted  for  strength,  I  do  believe,  but  yet  upon  two  sides 
without  retreat,  enclosed  betwixt  the  sea,  the  harbour,  and 
the  river.  Methinks,  Shelton,  here  were  a  great  blow  to 
be  stricken,  an  we  could  strike  it  silently  and  suddenly." 

"  I  do  think  so,  indeed,"  cried  Dick,  warming. 

"Have  ye  my  Lord  Foxham's  notes?"  inquked  the 
duke. 

And  then,  Dick,  having  explained  how  he  was  without 
them  for  the  moment,  made  himself  bold  to  offer  informa- 
tion every  jot  as  good,  of  his  own  knowledge. 

"And  for  mine  own  part,  my  lord  duke,"  he  added,  "an 
ye  had  men  enough,  I  would  fall  on  even  at  this  present. 
For,  look  ye,  at  the  peep  of  day  the  watches  of  the  night 
are  over  ;  but  by  day  they  keep  neither  watch  nor  ward — 
only  scour  the  outskirts  vfith.  horsemen.  Now,  then,  when 
the  night  watch  is  already  unarmed,  and  the  rest  are  at 
their  morning  cup — now  were  the  time  to  break  them." 

"  How  many  do  ye  count  ?  "  asked  Gloucester. 

"They  number  not  two  thousand,"  Dick  replied. 

"I  have  seven  hundred  in  the  woods  behind  us,"  said 
the  duke  ;  "  seven  hundred  follow  from  Kettley,  and  will 
be  here  anon ;  behind  these,  and  further,  are  four  hun- 
dred more  ;  and  my  Lord  Foxham  hath  five  hundred  half 


262  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

a  day  from  here,  at  Holywood.  Shall  we  attend  their 
coming,  or  fall  on  ?  " 

"  My  lord,"  said  Dick,  "  when  ye  hanged  these  five  jDoor 
rogues  ye  did  decide  the  question.  Churls  although  they 
were,  in  these  uneasy  times  they  will  be  lacked  and  looked 
for,  and  the  alarm  be  given.  Therefore,  my  lord,  if  ye  do 
count  upon  the  advantage  of  a  surprise,  ye  have  not,  in 
my  poor  opinion,  one  whole  hour  in  front  of  you." 

"I  do  think  so  indeed,"  returned  Crookback.  "Well, 
before  an  hour,  ye  shall  be  in  the  thick  on't,  winning 
spurs.  A  swift  man  to  Holy  wood,  carrying  Lord  Fox- 
ham's  signet ;  another  along  the  road  to  speed  my  lag- 
gards !     Nay,  Shelton,  by  the  rood,  it  may  be  done  !  " 

Therewith  he  once  more  set  his  trumpet  to  his  lips  and 
blew. 

This  time  he  was  not  long  kept  waiting.  In  a  moment 
the  open  sj^ace  about  the  cross  was  filled  with  horse  and 
foot.  Richard  of  Gloucester  took  his  place  upon  the  steps, 
and  despatched  messenger  after  messenger  to  hasten  the 
concentration  of  the  seven  hundred  men  that  lay  hidden 
in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  among  the  woods  ;  and 
before  a  quarter  of  an  hour  had  passed,  all  his  dispositions 
being  taken,  he  put  himself  at  their  head,  and  began  to 
move  down  the  hill  towards  Shoreby. 

His  plan  was  simple.  He  was  to  seize  a  quarter  of  the 
town  of  Shoreby  lying  on  the  right  hand  of  the  high  road, 
and  make  his  position  good  there  in  the  narrow  lanes  un? 
til  his  reinforcements  followed. 


THE    >HRILL    TRFMPrT.  263 

If  Lord  Risingham  chose  to  retreat,  Richard  would  fol- 
low upon  his  rear,  and  take  him  between  two  fires ;  or,  if 
he  preferred  to  hold  the  town,  he  would  be  shut  in  a  trap, 
there  to  be  gradually  overwhelmed  by  force  of  numbers. 

There  was  but  one  danger,  but  that  was  imminent  and 
great — Gloucester's  seven  hundred  might  be  rolled  up  and 
cut  to  pieces  in  the  first  encounter,  and,  to  avoid  this,  it 
was  needful  to  make  the  surprise  of  their  ari'ival  as  com- 
plete as  possible. 

The  footmen,  therefore,  were  all  once  more  taken  up 
behind  the  riders,  and  Dick  had  the  signal  honour  meted 
out  to  him  of  mounting  behind  Gloucester  himself.  For 
as  far  as  there  was  any  cover  the  troops  moved  slowly,  and 
when  they  came  near  the  end  of  the  trees  that  lined  the 
highway,  stopped  to  breathe  and  reconnoitre. 

The  sun  was  now  well  up,  shining  with  a  frosty  bright- 
ness out  of  a  yellow  halo,  and  right  over  against  the 
luminary,  Shoreby,  a  field  of  snowy  roofs  and  ruddy 
gables,  was  rolling  up  its  columns  of  morning  smoke. 

Gloucester  turned  round  to  Dick. 

"In  that  poor  place,"  he  said,  "  where  people  are  cook- 
ing breakfast,  either  you  shall  gain  your  spurs  and  I  be- 
gin a  life  of  mighty  honour  and  glory  in  the  world's  eye, 
cr  both  of  us,  as  I  conceive  it,  shall  fall  dead  and  be  un- 
heard of.  Two  Richards  are  we.  Well,  then,  Richard 
Shelton,  they  shall  be  heard  about,  these  two  !  Their 
swords  shall  not  ring  more  loudly  on  men's  helmets  than 
their  names  shall  ring  in  people's  ears." 


264:  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

Dick  was  astonished  at  so  great  a  hunger  after  fame^ 
exjDressed  with  so  great  vehemence  of  voice  and  language  ; 
and  he  answered  very  sensibly  and  quietly,  that,  for  his 
part,  he  promised  he  would  do  his  duty,  and  doubted  not 
of  victory  if  everyone  did  the  like. 

By  this  time  the  horses  were  well  breathed,  and  the 
leader  holding  up  his  sword  and  giving  rein,  the  whole 
troop  of  chargers  broke  into  the  gallop  and  thundered,  with 
their  double  load  of  fighting  men,  down  the  remainder  of 
the  hill  and  across  the  snow-covered  plain  that  still  divided 
them  from  Shoreby, 


CHAPTEE  n. 


THE   BATTLE    OF    SHOKEBY. 


The  whole  distance  to  be  crossed  was  not  above  a 
quarter  of  a  mile.  But  they  had  no  sooner  debouched  be- 
yond the  cover  of  the  trees  than  they  were  aware  of  peo- 
ple fleeing  and  screaming  in  the  snowy  meadows  upon 
either  hand.  Almost  at  the  same  moment  a  great  rumour 
began  to  arise,  and  spread  and  grow  continually  louder  in 
the  town  ;  and  they  were  not  yet  halfway  to  the  nearest 
house  before  the  bells  began  to  ring  backward  fi'om  the 
steeple. 

The  young  duke  ground  his  teeth  together.  By  these 
BO  early  signals  of  alarm  he  feared  to  find  his  enemies  pre- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  SHOREBY.  265 

pared  ;  and  if  he  failed  to  gain  a  footing  in  the  town,  he 
knew  that  his  small  party  would  soon  be  broken  and  ex- 
terminated in  the  open. 

In  the  town,  however,  the  Lancastrians  were  far  froni 
being  in  so  good  a  posture.  It  was  as  Dick  had  said.  The 
night-guard  had  already  doffed  their  harness  ;  the  rest 
were  still  hanging — unlatched,  unbraced,  aU  unprepared 
for  battle — about  their  quarters  ;  and  in  the  whole  of 
Shoreby  there  were  not,  perhaps,  fifty  men  full  armed,  or 
fifty  chargers  ready  to  be  mounted. 

The  beating  of  the  bells,  the  ten-ifying  summons  of  men 
who  ran  about  the  streets  crying  and  beating  upon  the 
doors,  aroused  in  an  incredibly  short  space  at  least  two 
score  out  of  that  half  hundred.  These  got  speedily  to 
horse,  and,  the  alarm  still  flying  wild  and  contrary,  gal- 
loped in  different  directions. 

Thus  it  befeU  that,  when  Richard  of  Gloucester  reached 
the  first  house  of  Shoreby,  he  was  met  in  the  mouth  of  the 
street  by  a  mere  handful  of  lances,  whom  he  swept  before 
his  onset  as  the  storm  chases  the  bark. 

A  hundred  paces  into  the  town,  Dick  Shelton  touched 
the  duke's  arm  ;  the  duke,  in  answer,  gathered  his  reins, 
put  the  shrill  trumpet  to  his  mouth,  and  blowing  a  con- 
certed point,  turned  to  the  right  hand  out  of  the  dii-ect 
advance.  Sweiwing  like  a  single  rider,  his  whole  com- 
mand turned  after  him,  and,  still  at  the  full  gallop  of  the 
chargers,  swept  up  the  narrow  bye-street.  Only  the  last 
score  of  riders  drew  rein  and  faced  about  in  the  entrance  ; 


266  THE   BLACK    ARROW. 

the  footmen,  whom  they  carried  behind  them,  leapt  at  the 
same  instant  to  the  earth,  and  began,  some  to  bend  their 
bows,  and  others  to  break  into  and  secui-e  the  houses 
upon  either  hand. 

Surprised  at  this  sudden  change  of  direction,  and  daunt- 
ed by  the  firm  front  of  the  rear-guard,  the  few  Lancas- 
triaus,  after  a  momentaiT  consultation,  turned  and  rode 
farther  into  town  to  seek  for  reinforcements. 

The  quarter  of  the  town  upon  which,  by  the  advice  of 
Dick,  Richard  of  Gloucester  had  now  seized,  consisted  of 
five  small  streets  of  poor  and  ill-inhabited  houses,  occupy- 
ing a  very  gentle  eminence,  and  lying  open  towards  the 
back. 

The  five  streets  being  each  secured  by  a  good  guard, 
the  reserve  would  thus  occupy  the  centre,  out  of  shot,  and 
yet  ready  to  carry  aid  wherever  it  was  needed. 

Such  was  the  poorness  of  the  neighbourhood  that  none 
of  the  Lancastrian  lords,  and  but  few  of  theii'  retainers, 
had  been  lodged  therein  ;  and  the  inhabitants,  with  one 
accord,  deserted  their  houses  and  fled,  squalling,  along  the 
streets  or  over  gai'den  walls. 

In  the  centre,  where  the  five  ways  all  met,  a  somewhat 
ill-favoured  alehouse  displayed  the  sign  of  the  Chequers  ; 
and  here  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  chose  his  headquarters 
for  the  day. 

To  Dick  he  assigned  the  guard  of  one  of  the  five  streets. 

"Go,"  he  said,  "win  youi'  spurs.  Win  glory  for  me  : 
one  Richard  for  another.     I  tell  vou,  if  I  rise,  ve  shall  rise 


THE   BATTLE    OF    SHOKEBY.  26T 

by  the  same  ladder.  Go,"  he  added,  shaking  him  by  the 
hand. 

But,  as  soon  as  Dick  was  gone,  he  tui'ued  to  a  Httle 
shabby  archer  at  his  elbow. 

'*  Go,  Dutton,  and  that  right  speedily,"  he  added. 
"  Follow  that  lad.  If  ye  find  him  faithful,  ye  answer  for 
his  safety,  a  head  for  a  head.  "Woe  unto  you,  if  ye  return 
without  him  !  But  if  he  be  faithless — or,  for  one  instant, 
ye  misdoubt  him — stab  him  from  behind." 

In  the  meanwhile  Dick  hastened  to  secure  his  post. 
The  street  he  had  to  guard  was  veiy  narrow,  and  closely 
lined  with  houses,  which  projected  and  overhung  the  road- 
way ;  but  narrow  and  dark  as  it  was,  since  it  opened  upon 
the  market-place  of  the  town,  the  main  issue  of  the  battle 
would  probably  fall  to  be  decided  on  that  spot. 

The  market-place  was  full  of  townspeople  fleeing  in  dis- 
order ;  but  there  was  as  yet  no  sign  of  any  foeman  ready 
to  attack,  and  Dick  judged  he  had  some  time  before  him 
to  make  ready  his  defence. 

The  two  houses  at  the  end  stood  deserted,  with  open 
doors,  as  the  inhabitants  had  left  them  in  their  flight,  and 
from  these  he  had  the  furnitui-e  hastily  tossed  forth  and 
piled  into  a  bariier  in  the  entry  of  the  lane.  A  hundred 
men  were  placed  at  his  disposal,  and  of  these  he  threw  the 
more  part  into  the  houses,  where  they  might  lie  in  shelter 
and  deliver  their  arrows  from  the  windows.  With  the 
rest,  under  his  own  immediate  eye,  he  lined  the  barricade. 

Meanwhile  the  utmost  uproar  and  confusion  had  con« 


%i' 


Hi'iiu,. 


268  THE   BLACK   AKEOW. 

tinued  to  prevail  throughout  the  town  ;  and  what  witli 
the  hurried  clashing  of  bells,  the  sounding  of  trumpets, 
the  swift  movement  of  bodies  of  horse,  the  cries  of  the 
commanders,  and  the  shrieks  of  women,  the  noise  was  al- 
most deafening  to  the  ear.  Presently,  Httle  by  little,  the 
tumult  began  to  subside  ;  and  soon  after,  files  of  men  in 
armour  and  bodies  of  archers  began  to  assemble  and  form 
in  line  of  battle  in  the  market-place. 

A  large  portion  of  this  body  were  in  murrey  and  blue, 
and  in  the  mounted  knight  who  ordered  their  array  Dick 
recognized  Sir  Daniel  Brackley. 

Then  there  befeU  a  long  pause,  which  was  followed  by 
the  almost  simultaneous  sounding  of  four  trumpets  from 
four  different  quarters  of  the  town.  A  fifth  rang  in  an- 
swer from  the  market-place,  and  at  the  same  moment  the 
files  began  to  move,  and  a  shower  of  arrows  rattled  about 
the  barricade,  and  sounded  hke  blows  upon  the  walls  of 
the  two  flanking  houses. 

The  attack  had  begun,  by  a  common  signal,  on  all  the 
five  issues  of  the  quarter.  Gloucester  was  beleaguered 
upon  every  side  ;  and  Dick  judged,  if  he  would  make  good 
his  post,  he  must  rely  entirely  on  the  hundred  men  of  his 
command. 

Seven  volleys  of  arrows  followed  one  upon  the  other, 
and  in  the  very  thick  of  the  discharges  Dick  was  touched 
from  behind  upon  the  arm,  and  found  a  page  holding  out 
to  him  a  leathern  jack,  strengthened  with  bright  plates  of 
mail. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  SHOREBY.  265 

**  It  is  from  my  Lord  of  Gloucester,"  said  the  page.  "  He 
hath  observed,  Sir  Eichard,  that  ye  went  unarmed." 

Dick,  with  a  glow  at  his  heart  at  being  so  addressed, 
got  to  his  feet  and,  with  the  assistance  of  the  page,  donned 
the  defensive  coat.  Even  as  he  did  so,  two  arrows  rat- 
tled haiTiilessly  upon  the  plates,  and  a  third  struck  down 
the  page,  mortally  wounded,  at  his  feet. 

Meantime  the  whole  body  of  the  enemy  had  been  stead- 
ily drawing  nearer  across  the  market-place  ;  and  by  this 
time  were  so  close  at  hand  that  Dick  gave  the  order  to  re- 
turn their  shot.  Immediately,  from  behind  the  barrier  and 
from  the  windows  of  the  houses,  a  counterblast  of  arrows 
sped,  carrying  death.  But  the  Lancastrians,  as  if  they 
had  but  waited  for  a  signal,  shouted  loudly  in  answer; 
and  began  to  close  at  a  run  upon  the  barrier,  the  horse- 
men still  hanging  back,  with  visors  lowered. 

Then  followed  an  obstinate  and  deadly  struggle,  hand 
to  hand.  The  assailants,  wielding  their  falchions  with 
one  hand,  strove  with  the  other  to  drag  down  the  structure 
of  the  barricade.  On  the  other  side,  the  parts  were  re- 
versed ;  and  the  defenders  exposed  themselves  like  mad- 
men to  protect  their  rampart.  So  for  some  minutes  the 
contest  raged  almost  in  silence,  friend  and  foe  f aUing^  one 
upon  another.  But  it  is  always  the  easier  to  destroy  ;  and 
when  a  single  note  upon  the  tucket  recalled  the  attacking 
party  from  this  desperate  service,  much  of  the  barricade 
had  been  removed  piecemeal,  and  the  whole  fabric  had 
sunk  to  half  its  height,  and  tottered  to  a  general  fall. 


270  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

And  now  the  footmen  in  the  market-place  fell  back,  at 
a  run,  on  every  side.  The  horsemen,  who  had  been 
standing  in  a  line  two  deep,  wheeled  suddenly',  and  made 
their  flank  into  their  front ;  and  as  swift  as  a  striking 
adder,  the  long,  steel-clad  column  was  launched  upon  the 
ruinous  barricade. 

Of  the  first  two  horsemen,  one  fell,  rider  and  steed, 
and  was  ridden  down  by  his  companions.  The  second 
leaped  clean  upon  the  summit  of  the  rampart,  transpierc- 
ing an  archer  with  his  lance.  Almost  in  the  same  in- 
stant he  was  dragged  from  the  saddle  and  his  horse  de- 
spatched. 

And  then  the  full  weight  and  impetus  of  the  charge 
burst  upon  and  scattered  the  defenders.  The  men-at- 
arms,  surmounting  their  fallen  comrades,  and  carried 
onward  by  the  fury  of  their  onslaught,  dashed  through 
Dick's  broken  line  and  poured  thundering  up  the  lane 
beyond,  as  a  stream  bestrides  and  pours  across  a  broken 
dam. 

Yet  was  the  fight  not  over.  Still,  in  the  narrow  jaws  of 
the  entrance,  Dick  and  a  few  survivors  plied  their  bills 
like  woodmen  ;  and  already,  across  the  width  of  the  pas- 
sage, there  had  been  formed  a  second,  a  higher,  and  a 
more  effectual  rampart  of  fallen  men  and  disembo^YelIed 
horses,  lashing  in  the  agonies  of  death. 

Baffled  by  this  fresh  obstacle,  the  remainder  of  the 
cavalry  fell  back  ;  and  as,  at  the  sight  of  this  movement, 
the  flight  of  arrows  redoubled  from  the  casements  of  the 


THE    BATTLE    OF    SHOKEBY.  271 

houses,  their  retreat  had,  for  a  moment,  almost  degener- 
ated into  flight. 

Almost  at  the  same  time,  those  who  had  crossed  the 
barricade  and  charged  farther  up  the  street,  being  met 
before  the  door  of  the  Chequers  by  the  formidable  hunch- 
back and  the  whole  reserve  of  the  Yorkists,  began  to  come 
scattering  backward,  in  the  excess  of  disarray  and  teiTor. 
Dick  and  his  fellows  faced  about,  fresh  men  jDOured  out 
of  the  houses  ;  a  cruel  blast  of  arrows  met  the  fugitives 
full  in  the  face,  while  Gloucester  was  already  riding  down 
their  rear  ;  in  the  inside  of  a  minute  and  a  half  there  was 
no  living  Lancastrian  in  the  street. 

Then,  and  not  till  then,  did  Dick  hold  up  his  reeking 
blade  and  give  the  word  to  cheer. 

Meanwhile  Gloucester  dismounted  from  his  horse  and 
came  forward  to  inspect  the  post.  His  face  was  as  pale 
as  linen  ;  but  his  eyes  shone  in  his  head  like  some  strange 
jewel,  and  his  voice,  when  he  spoke,  was  hoarse  and 
broken  with  the  exultation  of  battle  and  success.  He 
looked  at  the  rampart,  which  neither  friend  nor  foe  could 
now  approach  without  precaution,  so  fiercely  did  the 
horses  struggle  in  the  throes  of  death,  and  at  the  sight  of 
that  great  carnage  he  smiled  upon  one  side. 

"Despatch  these  horses,"  he  said;  "they  keep  you 
fi'om  your  vantage.  Richard  Shelton,"  he  added,  "ye 
have  pleased  me.     Kneel" 

The  Lancastrians  had  already  resumed  their  archery, 
and  the  shafts  fell  thick  in  the  mouth  of  the  street  ;  but 


272  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

the  duke,  minding  them  not  at  all,  deliberately  drew  his 
sword  and  dubbed  Eichard  a  knight  upon  the  spot. 

•'And  now,  Sir  Richard,"  he  continued,  "if  that  ye  see 
Lord  Risingham,  send  me  an  express  upon  the  instant. 
Were  it  your  last  man,  let  me  hear  of  it  incontinently.  I 
had  rather  venture  the  post  than  lose  my  stroke  at  him. 
For  mark  me,  all  of  ye,"  he  added,  raising  his  voice,  "  if 
Earl  Eisiugham  fall  by  another  hand  than  mine,  I  shall 
count  this  victory  a  defeat." 

"  My  lord  duke,"  said  one  of  his  attendants,  *'  is  your 
grace  not  weary  of  exposing  his  dear  life  unneedfully  ? 
Why  tarry  we  here  ?  " 

"  Catesby,"  returned  the  duke,  "here  is  the  battle,  not 
elsewhere.  The  rest  are  but  feigned  onslaughts.  Here 
must  we  vanquish.  And  for  the  exjDosure — if  ye  were  an 
ugly  hunchback,  and  the  children  gecked  at  you  upon  the 
street,  ye  would  count  your  body  cheaper,  and  an  hour  of 
glory  worth  a  hfe.  Howbeit,  if  ye  will,  let  us  ride  on  and 
visit  the  other  posts.  Sir  Eichard  here,  my  namesake,  he 
shall  still  hold  this  entr}^  where  he  wadeth  to  the  ankles 
in  hot  blood.  Him  can  we  trust.  But  mark  it.  Sir  Eich- 
ard, ye  are  not  yet  done.  The  worst  is  yet  to  ward. 
Sleep  not." 

He  came  right  up  to  young  Shelton,  looking  him  hard 
in  the  eyes,  and  taking  his  hand  in  both  of  his,  gave  it  so 
extreme  a  squeeze  that  the  blood  had  nearly  spurted. 
Dick  quailed  before  his  eyes.  The  insane  excitement,  the 
courage,  and  the  cruelty  that  he  read  therein  filled  him 


THE  BATTLE  OE  SHOREBT.  273 

with  dismay  about  the  future.  This  young  duke's  was  in- 
deed a  gallaut  spirit,  to  liJe  foremost  in  the  ranks  of  war  ; 
but  after  the  battle,  in  the  days  of  peace  and  in  the  circle 
of  his  trusted  friends,  that  mind,  it  was  to  be  dreaded, 
would  continue  to  brini?  forth  the  fruits  of  death. 


CHAPTER   m. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    SHOREBY    {concluded). 

Dick,  once  more  left  to  his  own  counsels,  began  to  look 
about  him.  The  arrow-shot  had  somewhat  slackened.  On 
all  sides  the  enemy  were  falling  back  ;  and  the  greater  part 
of  the  market-place  was  now  left  empty,  the  snow  here 
trampled  into  orange  mud,  there  splashed  with  gore,  scat- 
tered all  over  with  dead  men  and  horses,  and  bristhng  thick 
with  feathered  arrows. 

On  his  own  side  the  loss  had  been  cruel.  The  jaws  of 
the  little  street  and  the  ruins  of  the  barricade  were  heaped 
with  the  dead  and  dying ;  and  out  of  the  hundi'ed  men 
with  whom  he  had  begun  the  battle,  there  were  not  seventy 
left  who  could  still  stand  to  arms. 

At  the  same  time,  the  day  was  passing.  The  first  rein- 
forcements might  be  looked  for  to  arrive  at  any  moment ; 
and  the  Lancastrians,  akeady  shaken  by  the  result  of  their 
desj)erate  but  unsuccessful  onslaught,  were  in  an  ill  tem- 
per to  support  a  fi'esh  invader. 

Th'ere  was  a  dial  in  the  wall  of  one  of  the  two  flanking 
18 


274  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

Louses  ;  and  this,  in  the  frosty,  winter  sunshine,  indicated 
ten  of  the  forenoon. 

Dick  turned  to  the  man  who  was  at  his  elbow,  a  little 
insignificant  archer,  binding  a  cut  in  his  arm. 

'•'It  was  well  fought,"  he  said,  **and,  by  my  sooth,  they 
will  not  charge  us  twice." 

"Sir,"  said  tiie  little  archer,  "ye  have  fought  right  well 
for  York,  and  better  for  yourself.  Never  hath  man  in 
so  brief  space  prevailed  so  greatly  on  the  duke's  afi'ec- 
tions.  That  he  should  have  enti'usted  such  a  post  to  one 
he  knew  not  is  a  marvel.  But  look  to  your  head,  Sir 
"Richard  !  If  ye  be  vanquished — ay,  if  ye  give  way  one 
foot's  breadth — axe  or  cord  shall  punish  it  ;  and  I  am  set 
if  ye  do  augh-^  doubtful,  I  will  tell  you  honestly,  here  to 
stab  you  from  behind." 

Dick  looked  at  the  little  man  in  amaze. 

"  You  ! "  he  cried.     "  And  from  behind  !  " 

"It  is  right  so,"  returned  the  archer  ;  "and  because  I 
like  not  the  affair  I  tell  it  you.  Ye  must  make  the  post 
good,  Sir  Richard,  at  your  peril.  O,  our  Crookback  is  a 
bold  blade  and  a  good  warrior  ;  but,  whether  in  cold  blood 
or  in  hot,  he  will  have  all  things  done  exact  to  his  com- 
mandment. If  any  fail  or  hinder,  they  shall  die  the 
death." 

"  Now,  by  the  saints  !  "  cried  Richard,  "  is  this  so  ?  And 
will  men  follow  such  a  leader  ?  " 

*'  Nay,  they  follow  him  gleefully,"  replied  the  other ; 
"  for  if  he  be  exact  to  punish,  he  is  most  open-handed  to 


THE  BATTLE  OF  SHOREBY.  275 


reward.  And  if  he  spare  not  the  blood  and  sweat  of 
others,  he  is  ever  liberal  of  his  own,  still  in  the  first  front 
of  battle,  still  the  last  to  sleep.  He  will  go  far,  will  Crook- 
back  Dick  o'  Gloucester  !  " 

The  young  knight,  if  he  had  before  been  brave  and  vigi- 
lant, was  now  all  the  more  inclined  to  watchfulness  and 
courage.  His  sudden  favour,  he  began  to  perceive,  had 
brought  perils  in  its  train.  And  he  turned  from  the 
archer,  and  once  more  scanned  anxiously  the  market-place. 
It  lay  empty  as  before. 

"I  like  not  this  quietude," he  said.  "Doubtless  they 
prepare  us  some  surprise." 

And,  as  if  in  answer  to  his  remark,  the  archers  began 
once  more  to  advance  against  the  barricade,  and  the  ar- 
rows to  fall  thick.  But  there  was  something  hesitating  in 
the  attack.  They  came  not  on  roundly,  but  seemed  rather 
to  await  a  further  signal. 

Dick  looked  uneasily  about  him,  sjDying  for  a  hidden 
danger.  And  sure  enough,  about  half  way  up  the  little 
street,  a  door  was  suddenly  opened  from  within,  and  the 
house  continued,  for  some  seconds,  and  both  by  door  and 
window,  to  disgorge  a  torrent  of  Lancastrian  archers. 
These,  as  they  leaped  down,  hurriedly  stood  to  their  ranks, 
bent  their  bows,  and  proceeded  to  pour  upon  Dick's  rear  a 
flight  of  arrows. 

At  the  same  time,  the  assailants  in  the  market-place  re- 
doubled their  shot,  and  began  to  close  in  stoutly  upon  the 
barricade. 


276  THE   BLACK    ^SJRROAV.  • 

Dick  called  down  his  whole  command  out  of  the  houses, 
and  facing  them  both  ways,  and  encouraging  their  valour 
both  by  word  and  gesture,  returned  as  best  he  could  the 
double  shower  of  shafts  that  fell  about  his  post. 

Meanwhile  house  after  house  was  opened  in  the  street, 
and  the  Lancastrians  continued  to  pour  out  of  the  doors 
and  leap  down  from  the  windows,  shouting  victory,  until 
the  number  of  enemies  upon  Dick's  rear  was  almost  equal 
to  the  number  in  his  face.  It  was  plain  that  he  could  hold 
the  post  no  longer  ;  what  was  worse,  even  if  he  could  have 
held  it,  it  had  now  become  useless  ;  and  the  whole  York- 
ist army  lay  in  a  postui'e  of  helplessness  upon  the  brink 
of  a  complete  disaster. 

The  men  behind  him  formed  the  vital  flaw  in  the  general 
defence  ;  and  it  was  upon  these  that  Dick  turned,  charg- 
ing at  the  head  of  his  men.  So  vigorous  was  the  attack, 
that  the  Lancastrian  archers  gave  ground  and  staggered, 
and,  at  last,  breaking  their  ranks,  began  to  crowd  back 
into  the  houses  from  which  they  had  so  recently  and  so 
vaingloriously  sallied. 

Meanwhile  the  men  from  the  market-place  had  swarmed 
across  the  undefended  barricade,  and  fell  on  hotly  upon 
the  other  side  ;  and  Dick  must  once  again  face  about,  and 
proceed  to  di'ive  them  back.  Once  again  the  spirit  of  his 
men  prevailed  ;  they  cleared  the  street  in  a  triumphant 
style,  but  even  as  they  did  so  the  others  issued  again  out 
of  the  houses,  and  took  them,  a  third  time,  upon  the  rear. 

The  Yorkists  began  to  be  scattered  ;  several  times  Dick 


THE    BATTLE    OF    SHOREBY.  2  i  i 

found  himself  alone  among  his  foes  and  plying  his  bright 
sword  for  life  ;  several  times  he  was  conscious  of  a  hurt. 
And  meanwhile  the  fight  swayed  to  and  fro  in  the  street 
■without  determinate  result. 

Suddenly  Dick  was  aware  of  a  great  trumpeting  about 
the  outskirts  of  the  town.  The  war-cry  of  York  began  to 
be  rolled  up  to  heaven,  as  by  many  and  triumphant  voices. 
And  at  the  same  time  the  men  in  front  of  him  began  to 
give  ground  rapidly,  streaming  out  of  the  street  and  back 
upon  the  market-place.  Some  one  gave  the  word  to  fly. 
Trumpets  were  blown  distractedly,  some  for  a  rally,  some 
to  chai'ge.  It  was  plain  that  a  great  blow  had  been 
struck,  and  the  Lancastrians  were  thrown,  at  least  for  the 
moment,  into  full  disorder,  and  some  degree  of  panic. 

And  then,  like  a  theatre  trick,  there  followed  the  last 
act  of  Shoreby  Battle.  The  men  in  front  of  Eichard 
turned  tail,  like  a  dog  that  has  been  w^histled  home,  and 
fled  like  the  wind.  At  the  same  moment  there  came 
through  the  market-place  a  storm  of  horsemen,  fleeing  and 
pursuing,  the  Lancastrians  turning  back  to  strike  with 
the  sword,  the  Yorkists  riding  them  down  at  the  point  of 
the  lance. 

Conspicuous  in  the  mellay,  Dick  beheld  the  Crookback. 
He  was  already  giving  a  foretaste  of  that  furious  valour 
and  skill  to  cut  his  way  across  the  ranks  of  war,  which, 
years  afterwards  upon  the  field  of  Bosworth,  and  when  he 
was  stained  with  ci-imes,  almost  sufficed  to  change  the  for- 
tunes of  the  day  and  the  destiny  of  the  English  throne. 


27S  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

Evading,  striking,  riding  down,  he  so  forced  and  so  ma. 
noeuvred  his  strong  horse,  so  aptly  defended  himself,  and 
60  liberally  scattered  death  to  his  opponents,  that  he  was 
now  far  ahead  of  the  foremost  of  his  knights,  hewing  his 
way,  with  the  truncheon  of  a  bloody  sword,  to  where  Lord 
Risingham  was  rallying  the  bravest.  A  moment  more  and 
they  had  met ;  the  tall,  splendid,  and  famous  warrior 
against  the  deformed  and  sickly  boy. 

Yet  Shelton  had  never  a  doubt  of  the  result ;  and  when 
the  fight  next  opened  for  a  moment,  the  figure  of  the  earl 
had  disappeared  ;  but  still,  in  the  first  of  the  danger, 
Crookback  Dick  was  launching  his  big  horse  and  plying 
the  truncheon  of  his  sword. 

Thus,  by  Shelton's  corn-age  in  holding  the  mouth  of  the 
street  against  the  first  attack,  and  by  the  opportune  aiTi- 
val  of  his  seven  hundred  reinforcements,  the  lad,  who  was 
afterwards  to  be  handed  down  to  the  execration  of  pos- 
terity under  the  name  of  Richard  m.,  had  won  his  first 
considerable  fight. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE    SACK    OF    SHOREBY. 


There  was  not  a  foe  left  within  striking  distance  ;  and 
Dick,  as  he  looked  ruefully  about  him  on  the  remainder 
of  his  gallant  force,  began  to  count  the  cost  of  victory. 


THE    SACK    OF    SHOREBY.  2Tl> 

He  was  himself,  now  that  the  danger  was  ended,  so  stii! 
and  sore,  so  bruised  and  cut  and  broken,  and,  above  all, 
so  utterly  exhausted  by  his  desperate  and  unremitting 
labours  in  the  fight,  that  he  seemed  incapable  of  any  fresh 
exertion. 

But  this  was  not  yet  the  hour  for  repose.  Shoreby  had 
been  taken  by  assault ;  and  though  an  oj^en  town,  and  not 
in  any  manner  to  be  charged  with  the  resistance,  it  was 
plain  that  these  rough  fighters  would  be  not  less  rough 
now  that  the  fight  was  over,  and  that  the  more  horrid  part 
of  war  would  fall  to  be  enacted.  Richard  of  Gloucester 
was  not  the  captain  to  protect  the  citizens  from  his  infu- 
riated soldiery  ;  and  even  if  he  had  the  will,  it  might  be 
questioned  if  he  had  the  power. 

It  was,  therefore,  Dick's  business  to  find  and  to  protect 
Joanna  ;  and  with  that  end  he  looked  about  him  at  the 
faces  of  his  men.  The  three  or  four  who  seemed  likeli- 
est to  be  obedient  and  to  keep  sober  he  drew  aside  ;  and 
promising  them  a  rich  reward  and  a  special  recommenda- 
tion to  the  duke,  led  them  across  the  market-place,  now 
empty  of  horsemen,  and  into  the  streets  upon  the  further 
side. 

Every  here  and  there  small  combats  of  from  two  to  a 
dozen  still  raged  upon  the  open  street ;  here  and  there  a 
house  was  being  besieged,  the  defenders  throwing  out 
stools  and  tables  on  the  heads  of  the  assailants.  The  snow 
was  strewn  with  arms  and  corpses  ;  but  except  for  these 
partial  combats  the  streets  w^ere  deserted,  and  the  houses; 


280  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

some  standing  open,  and  some  shuttered  and  barricaded, 
had  for  the  most  part  ceased  to  give  out  smoke. 

Dick,  threading  the  skirts  of  these  skirmishers,  led  his 
followers  briskly  in  the  direction  of  the  abbey  church ; 
but  when  he  came  the  length  of  the  main  street,  a  cry  of 
horror  broke  from  his  lips.  Sir  Daniel's  great  house  had 
been  carried  by  assault.  The  gates  hung  in  splinters  from 
the  hinges,  and  a  double  throng  kept  pouring  in  and  out 
through  the  entrance,  seeking  and  carrying  booty.  Mean- 
while, in  the  upper  storeys,  some  resistance  was  still  being 
offered  to  the  pillagers  ;  for  just  as  Dick  came  within  eye- 
shot of  the  building,  a  casement  was  burst  open  from 
within,,and  a  poor  wretch  in  murrey  and  blue,  screaming 
and  resisting,  was  forced  thi'ough  the  embrasure  and  tossed 
into  the  street  below. 

The  most  sickening  apprehension  fell  upon  Dick.  He 
ran  forward  like  one  possessed,  forced  his  way  into  the 
house  among  the  foremost,  and  mounted  without  pause  to 
the  chamber  on  the  third  floor  where  he  had  last  parted 
from  Joanna.  It  was  a  mere  wreck  ;  the  furniture  had 
been  overthrown,  the  cupboards  broken  open,  and  in  one 
place  a  traihng  corner  of  the  arras  lay  smouldering  on  the 
embers  of  the  fire. 

Dick,  almost  without  thinking,  trod  out  the  incipient 
conflagration,  and  then  stood  bewildered.  Sir  Daniel,  Sir 
Oliver,  Joanna,  all  were  gone  ;  but  whether  butchered  in 
the  rout  or  safe  escaped  from  Shoreby,  who  should  say  ? 

He  caught  a  passing  archer  by  the  tabard. 


THE    SACK    OF    SHOREliY.  281 

*' Fellow,"  lie  asked,  "were  ve  here  when  this  house 
was  taken  ?  " 

"Let  be,"  said  the  archer.  "A  murrain  !  let  be,  or  I 
strike." 

"Hai'k  ye,"  returned  Richard,  "two  can  play  at  that. 
Stand  and  be  plain." 

But  the  man,  flushed  with  drink  and  battle,  struck  Dick 
upon  the  shoulder  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he 
twitched  away  his  garment.  Thereupon  the  full  wrath  of 
the  young  leader  biu'st  fi'om  his  control.  He  seized  the 
fellow  in  his  strong  embrace,  and  crushed  him  on  the 
plates  of  his  mailed  bosom  like  a  child  ;  then,  holding  him 
at  aiTn's  length,  he  bid  him  speak  as  he  valued  life. 

"I  pray  you  mercy  ! "  gasped  the  archer.  "An  I  had 
thought  ye  were  so  angry  I  would  'a'  been  charier  of  cross- 
ing you.     I  was  here  indeed." 

"  Know  ye  Sir  Daniel  ?  "  pursued  Dick. 

"  Well  do  I  know  him,"  returned  the  man. 

"Was  he  in  the  mansion?" 

"  Ay,  sii',  he  was,"  answered  the  archer  ;  "  but  even  as 
we  entered  by  the  yai'd  gate  he  rode  forth  by  the  gar- 
den." 

"Alone?"  cried  Dick 

"  He  may  'a'  had  a  score  of  lances  with  him,"  said  the 
man. 

"Lances  !     No  women,  then?"  asked  Shelton. 

"  Troth,  I  saw  not,"  said  the  archer.  "But  there  were 
none  in  the  house,  if  that  be  your  quest." 


282  THE   BLACK   AEROW. 

"I  thank  you,"  said  Dick.  "Here  is  a  piece  for  your 
pains."  But  groping  in  his  wallet,  Dick  found  noth- 
ing.    "Inquire  for  me  to-morrow,"  he  added — "  Kichard 

Shelt Sir  Kichard  Shelton,"  he  corrected,  "and  I  will 

see  you  handsomely  rewarded." 

And  then  an  idea  struck  Dick.  He  hastily  descended 
to  the  courtyard,  ran  with  all  his  might  across  the  gar- 
den, and  came  to  the  great  door  of  the  church.  It  stood 
wide  open  ;  within,  every  corner  of  the  pavement  was 
crowded  with  fugitive  burghers,  surrounded  by  their 
families  and  laden  with  the  most  precious  of  their  posses- 
sions, while,  at  the  high  altar,  priests  in  full  canonicals 
were  imploring  the  mercy  of  God.  Even  as  Dick  entered, 
the  loud  chorus  began  to  thunder  in  the  vaulted  roofs. 

He  hurried  through  the  groups  of  refugees,  and  came 
to  the  door  of  the  stair  that  led  into  the  steeple.  And  here 
a  tall  churchman  stepped  before  him  and  arrested  his  ad- 
vance. 

"Whither,  my  son?  "  he  asked,  severely. 

"  My  father,"  answered  Dick,  "  I  am  here  upon  an  er- 
rand of  expedition.  Stay  me  not.  I  command  here  for 
my  Lord  of  Gloucester." 

"For  my  Lord  of  Gloucester?"  repeated  the  priest. 
**  Hath,  then,  the  battle  gone  so  sore  ?  " 

"  The  battle,  father,  is  at  an  end,  Lancaster  clean  sped, 
my  Lord  of  Kisingham — Heaven  rest  him  ! — left  upon  the 
field.  And  now,  with  your  good  leave,  I  follow  mine  af- 
fairs."    And  thrusting  on  one  side  the  priest,  who  seemed 


THE    SACK    OF    SHOREBY.  283 

Btupefied  at  the  news,  Dick  pushed  open  the  door  and 
rattled  ujd  the  stairs  four  at  a  bound,  and  without  pause 
or  stumble,  till  he  stepped  upon  the  open  platform  at  the 
top. 

Shoreby  Church  tower  not  only  commanded  the  town, 
as  in  a  map,  but  looked  far,  on  both  sides,  over  sea  and 
land.  It  was  now  near  upon  noon  ;  the  day  exceeding 
bright,  the  snow  dazzHug.  And  as  Dick  looked  around 
him,  he  could  measure  the  consequences  of  the  battle. 

A  confused,  growling  uproar  reached  him  from  the 
streets,  and  now  and  then,  but  very  rarely,  the  clash  of 
steel,  Not  a  ship,  not  so  much  as  a  skiff  remained  in  har- 
bour ;  but  the  sea  was  dotted  with  sails  and  row-boats 
laden  with  fugitives.  On  shore,-,  too,  the  sui'face  of  the 
snowy  meadows  was  broken  up  with  bands  of  horsemen, 
some  cutting  their  way  towards  the  borders  of  the  forest, 
others,  who  were  doubtless  of  the  Yorkist  side,  stoutly  in- 
terjDOsing  and  beating  them  back  upon  the  town.  Over 
all  the  open  ground  there  lay  a  prodigious  quantity  of  fall- 
en men  and  horses,  clearly  defined  upon  the  snow. 

T-'  complete  the  picture,  those  of  the  foot  soldiers  as  had 
not  lound  place  upon  a  ship  still  kept  up  an  archery  com- 
bat on  the  borders  of  the  port,  and  from  the  cover  of  the 
shoreside  taverns.  In  that  quarter,  also,  one  or  two 
houses  had  been  fired,  and  the  smoke  towered  high  in  the 
frosty  sunlight,  and  blew  off  to  sea  in  voluminous  folds. 

Already  close  upon  the  margin  of  the  woods,  and  some- 
what in  the  line  of  Holywood,  one  particular  clump  of  flee- 


254  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

ing  horsemen  riveted  tlie  attention  of  the  young  watcher 
on  the  tower.  It  was  fairly  numerous  ;  in  no  other  quar- 
ter of  the  field  did  so  many  Lancastrians  still  hold  togeth- 
er ;  thus  they  had  left  a  wide,  discoloured  wake  upon  the 
snow^,  and  Dick  was  able  to  trace  them  step  by  step  from 
where  they  had  left  the  town. 

While  Dick  stood  watching  them,  they  had  gained,  un- 
opposed, the  first  fringe  of  the  leafless  forest,  and,  turn- 
ing a  little  from  their  direction,  the  sun  fell  for  a  moment 
full  on  their  array,  as  it  was  relieved  against  the  dusky 
wood. 

''Murrey  and  blue  !  ''  cried  Dick.  "  I  swear  it — mun-ey 
and  blue !  " 

The  next  moment  he  was  descending  the  stairway. 

It  was  now"  his  business  to  seek  out  the  Duke  of  Glou- 
cester, who  alone,  in  the  disorder  of  the  forces,  might  be 
able  to  supply  him  with  a  sufficiency  of  meu.  The  fight- 
ing in  the  main  town  was  now  practically  at  an  end  ;  and 
as  Dick  ran  hither  and  thither,  seeking  the  commander, 
the  streets  were  thick  with  wandering  soldiers,  some  laden 
with  more  booty  than  they  could  well  stagger  under,  oth- 
ers shouting  di'unk.  Xone  of  them,  when  questioned,  had 
the  least  notion  of  the  duke's  whereabouts  ;  and,  at  last, 
it  was  by  sheer  good  fortune  that  Dick  found  him,  where 
he  sat  in  the  saddle  directing  operations  to  dislodge  the 
archers  from  the  harbour  side. 

"Sir  Richard  Shelton,  ye  are  well  found,"  he  said.  "I 
owe  you  one  thing  that  I  value  little,  nn-  life  ;  and  one 


THE    SACK    OF    SHOKEBY.  2S^ 

that  I  can  never  pay  vou  for,  this  Tictory=  Cat€sl3y,  if  1 
had  ten  such  captains  as  Sir  Richard,  I  would  march 
forthi-ight  on  London.  But  now,  sii',  claim  vour  re- 
ward,"' 

"Freely,  my  lord,""  said  Dick,  '"freely  and  loudly.  One 
hath  escaj^ed  to  whom  I  owe  some  grudges,  and  taken 
with  him  one  whom  I  owe  love  and  service.  Give  me, 
then,  fifty  lances,  that  I  may  pursue  ;  and  for  any  obliga- 
tion that  your  graciousness  is  pleased  to  allow,  it  shall  be 
clean  discharged." 

*•'  How  call  ye  him  "?  "  inquired  the  duke. 

"  Sir  Daniel  Brackley,"  answered  Richard. 

"  Out  upon  him,  double-face ! "  cried  Gloucester.  '■'  Here 
is  no  rewai-d,  Sir  Richai'd  ;  here  is  fresh  seiwice  offered, 
and,  if  that  ye  bring  his  head  to  me,  a  fresh  debt  upon 
my  conscience.  Catesby,  get  him  these  lances  ;  and  you, 
sir,  bethink  ye,  in  the  meanwhile,  what  pleasure,  honour, 
or  profit  it  shall  be  mine  to  give  you." 

Just  then  the  Yorkist  skirmishers  carried  one  of  the 
shoreside  taverns,  swarming  in  upon  it  on  three  sides,  and 
driving  out  or  taking  its  defendei-s.  Crookback  Dick  was 
pleased  to  cheer  the  exploit,  and  pushing  his  horse  a  little 
nearer,  called  to  see  the  prisoners. 

There  were  four  or  five  of  tl^em — two  men  of  my  Lord 
vShoreby's  and  one  of  Lord  Risingham's  among  the  num- 
ber, and  last,  but  in  Dick's  eyes  not  least,  a  tall,  sham- 
bling, grizzled  old  shipman.  between  drunk  and  sober, 
and  with  a  dog  whimpering  and  jumping  at  his  heels. 


286  THE   BLACK   AKROW. 

The  young  duke  passed  them  for  a  moment  under  a  s&« 
vere  review. 

"  Good,"  he  said.     "  Hang  them." 

And  he  tui-ned  the  other  way  to  watch  the  pi'ogress  of 
the  fight. 

*'My  lord,"  said  Dick,  "so  please  you,  I  have  found  my 
reward.  Grant  me  the  life  and  liberty  of  yon  old  ship- 
man." 

Gloucester  turned  and  looked  the  speaker  in  the  face. 

"  Sir  Eichard,"  he  said,  "I  make  not  war  with  peacock's 
feathers,  but  steel  shafts.  Those  that  are  mine  enemies 
I  slay,  and  that  without  excuse  or  favour.  For,  bethink 
ye,  in  this  realm  of  England,  that  is  so  torn  in  pieces, 
there  is  not  a  man  of  mine  but  hath  a  brother  or  a  friend 
upon  the  other  party.  If,  then,  I  did  begin  to  grant  these 
pardons,  I  might  sheathe  my  sword." 

*'  It  may  be  so,  my  lord  ;  and  yet  I  will  be  overbold,  and, 
at  the  risk  of  your  disfavour,  recall  your  lordship's  prom- 
ise," replied  Dick. 

Richard  of  Gloucester  flushed. 

"Mark  it  right  well,"  he  said,  harshly.  "I  love  not 
mercy,  nor  yet  mercymougers.  Ye  have  this  day  laid  the 
foundations  of  high  fortune.  If  ye  oi^pose  to  me  my  word, 
which  I  have  plighted,  I  will  yield.  But,  by  the  glory  of 
heaven,  there  your  favour  dies  ! " 

"Mine  is  the  loss,"  said  Dick. 

"  Give  him  his  sailor,"  said  the  duke  ;  and  wheeling  his 
horse,  he  turned  his  back  upon  young  Shelton. 


THE    SACK    OF    6H0REBY.  287 

Dick  was  nor  glad  nor  sorry.  He  bad  seen  too  much 
of  the  young  duke  to  set  great  store  on  his  affection  ;  and 
the  origin  and  gi'owth  of  his  own  favour  had  been  too 
flimsy  and  too  rapid  to  inspire  much  confidence.  One 
thing  alone  he  feared — that  tbe  ^'indictive  leader  might 
revoke  the  offer  of  the  lances.  But  here  he  did  justice 
neither  to  Gloucester's  honour  (such  as  it  was)  nor  above 
all,  to  his  decision.  If  he  had  once  judged  Dick  to  be 
the  right  man  to  piu'SQe  Sir  Daniel,  he  was  not  one  to 
change  ;  and  he  soon  proved  it  by  shouting  after  Catesby 
to  be  speedy,  for  the  paladin  was  waiting. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Dick  turned  to  the  old  shipman,  who 
had  seemed  equally  indifferent  to  his  condemnation  and 
to  his  subsequent  release. 

"  Arblaster,"  said  Dick,  "I  have  done  you  ill  ;  but  now, 
by  the  rood,  I  think  I  have  cleared  the  score." 

But  the  old  skipper  only  looked  upon  him  dully  and 
held  his  peace. 

"Come,"  continued  Dick,  "a  life  is  a  life,  old  shrew, 
and  it  is  more  than  ships  or  liquor.  Say  ye  forgive  me  ; 
for  if  your  life  be  worth  nothing  to  you,  it  hath  cost  me 
the  beginnings  of  my  fortune.  Come,  I  have  paid  for  it 
dearly  ;  be  not  so  churlish.'' 

"An  I  had  had  my  ship,"  said  Ai'blaster,  "I  would  'a' 
been  forth  and  safe  on  the  high  seas — I  and  my  man 
Tom.  But  ye  took  my  ship,  gossip,  and  I  m  a  beggar  ; 
and  for  my  man  Tom,  a  knave  fellow  in  russet  shot  him 
down.      *  Murrain  1  '    quoth   he.  and    spake    never   again. 


288  THE   BLACK    ARROW. 

*  MuiTain '  was  the  last  of  his  words,  and  the  poor  spirit  ol 
him  passed.     'A  will  never  sail  no  more,  will  my  Tom." 

Dick  was  seized  with  unavailing  j^enitence  and  pity ;  he 
sought  to  take  the  skipper's  hand,  but  Arblaster  avoided 
his  touch. 

"  Nay,"  said  he,  "  let  be.  Y'  have  played  the  devil  vrith. 
me,  and  let  that  content  you." 

The  words  died  in  Richard's  throat.  He  saw,  through 
tears,  the  poor  old  man,  bemused  with  liquor  and  sorrow, 
go  shambling  away,  with  bowed  head,  across  the  snow, 
and  the  unnoticed  dog  whimpering  at  his  heels.  And 
for  the  first  time  began  to  understand  the  desperate  game 
that  we  play  in  life.i.,gLnd  how  a  thiug_  once  ^done^is  iiQt_ 
to  be  changed  or  remedied,  by  any  peuiterLCe^.^ 

But  there  was  no  time  left  to  him  for  vain  regret. 
Catesby  had  now  collected  the  horsemen,  and'  riding  xi-p 
to  Dick  he  dismounted,  and  offered  him  his  own  horse. 

"This  morning," he  said,  "I  was  somewhat  jealous  of 
your  favour  ;  it  hath  not  been  of  a  long  growth  ;  and  nov,-", 
Sir  Richard,  it  is  with  a  very  good  heart  that  I  offer  you 
this  horse — to  ride  away  with." 

"  Suffer  me  yet  a  moment,"  replied  Dick.  "  This  favour 
of  mine — whereupon  was  it  founded  ?  " 

''Upon  your  name,"  answered  Catesby,  "It  is-  my 
lord's  chief  superstition.  Were  my  name  Richard,  I 
should  be  an  earl  to-morrow." 

"Well,  sir,  I  thank  you,"  returned  Dick  ;  ''and  since  I 
am  little  likely  to  follow  these  great  fortunes,  I  will  even 


THE    SACK    OF    SHOREBY.  289 

say  farewell.  I  will  not  pretend  I  was  displeased  to  think 
myself  upon  tlie  road  to  fortune  ;  but  I  will  not  pretend, 
neither,  that  I  am  over-sorry  to  be  done  with  it.  Com- 
mand and  riches,  they  are  brave  things,  to  be  sure  ;  but 
a  word  in  your  ear — yon  duke  of  yours,  he  is  a  fearsome 
lad." 

Catesby  laughed. 

"Nay," said  he,  "  of  a  verity  he  that  rides  with  Crooked 
Dick  will  ride  deep.  Well,  God  keep  us  all  from  evil ! 
Speed  ye  well." 

Thereupon  Dick  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his  men, 
and  giving  the  word  of  command,  rode  off. 

He  made  straight  across  the  town,  following  what  he 
supposed  to  be  the  route  of  Sir  Daniel,  and  spying  around 
for  any  signs  that  might  decide  if  he  were  right. 

The  streets  were  strewn  with  the  dead  and  the  wounded, 
whose  fate,  in  the  bitter  frost,  was  far  the  more  pitiable. 
Gangs  of  the  victors  went  from  house  to  house,  pillaging 
and  stabbing,  and  sometimes  singing  together  as  they 
went. 

From  different  quarters,  as  he  rode  on,  the  sounds  of 
violence  and  outrage  came  to  young  Shelton's  ears  ;  now 
the  blows  of  the  sledge-hammer  on  some  barricaded  door, 
and  now  the  miserable  shrieks  of  women. 

Dick's  heart  had  just  been  awakened.    He  had  just  seen 
the   ciniel   consequences  of  his  own  behaviour  ;   and  the 
thought  of  the  sum  of  misery  that  was  now  acting  in  the 
whole  of  Shoreby  filled  him  with  despair. 
19 


290  THE    BLACS    ARROW. 

At  length  he  reached  the  outskirts,  and  there,  sure 
enough,  he  saw  straight  before  him  the  same  broad, 
beaten  track  across  the  snow  that  he  had  marked  from 
the  summit  of  the  church.  Here,  then,  he  went  the  faster 
on  ;  but  still,  as  he  rode,  he  kept  a  bright  eye  upon  the 
fallen  men  and  horses  that  lay  beside  the  track.  Many  of 
these,  he  was  relieved  to  see,  wore  Sir  Daniel's  colors,  and 
the  faces  of  some,  who  lay  upon  their  back,  he  even  rec- 
ognized. 

About  half-way  between  the  town  and  the  forest,  those 
whom  he  was  following  had  plainly  been  assailed  by 
archers  ;  for  the  coi-pses  lay  pretty  closely  scattered,  each 
pierced  by  an  arrow.  And  here  Dick  spied  among  the 
rest  the  body  of  a  very  young  lad,  whose  face  was  some- 
how hauntingly  familiar  to  him. 

He  halted  his  troop,  dismounted,  and  raised  the  lad's 
head.  As  he  did  so,  the  hood  fell  back,  and  a  profusion 
of  long  brown  hair  unrolled  itself.  At  the  same  time  the 
eyes  opened. 

"Ah!  lion  driver !  "  said  a  feeble  voice.  "She  is  far- 
ther on.     Ride — ride  fast !  " 

And  then  the  poor  young  lady  fainted  once  again. 

One  of  Dick's  men  carried  a  flask  of  some  strong  cor- 
dial, and  with  this  Dick  succeeded  in  reviving  conscious- 
ness. Then  he  took  Joanna's  friend  upon  his  saddle-bow, 
and  once  more  pushed  toward  the  forest. 

"  Why  do  ye  take  me  ?  "  said  the  girL  "  Ye  but  delay 
your  speed." 


NIGHT    IX    THE    WOODS.  291 

"  NaT,  Mistress  Risingham,"  replied  Dick.  "  Shoreby 
is  full  of  blood  and  drunkenness  and  riot.  Here  ye  are 
safe  ;  content  ye." 

*•'  I  will  not  be  beholden  to  any  of  your  faction,"  she 
cried  ;  '•'  set  me  down." 

**  Madam,  ye  know  not  what  ye  say,"  returned  Dick. 
"Y'are  hurt" 

f"l  am  not,"  she  said.  *'It  was  my  horse  was  slain." 
"It  matters  not  one  jot,"  replied  Richard.  "Ye  are  hera 
in  the  midst  of  open  snow,  and  compassed  about  with  ene- 
mies. Whether  ye  will  or  not,  I  carry  you  with  me.  Glad 
am  I  to  have  the  occasion  ;  for  thus  shall  I  repay  some 
portion  of  our  debt." 

For  a  little  while  she  was  silent.  Then,  very  suddenly, 
she  asked  : 

''My  uncle?" 

**My  Lord  Eisingham?"  returned  Dick.  ''I  would  I 
had  good  news  to  give  you,  madam  ;  but  I  have  none.  I 
saw  him  once  in  the  battle,  and  once  only.  Let  us  hope 
the  best." 


CHAPTER  y. 

NIGHT   IN   THE   WOODS  :    ALICIA   RISINGHAM. 

It  was  almost  certain  that  Sir  Daniel  had  made  for  the 
Moat  House  ;  but,  con  sideling  the  heavy  snow,  the  late- 
ness of  the  hour,  and  the  necessity  under  which  he  would 


292  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

lie  of  avoiding  the  few  roads  and  striking  across  the  wood, 
it  was  equally  certain  that  he  could  not  hope  to  reach  it 
ere  the  morrow. 

There  were  two  courses  open  to  Dick  ;  either  to  continue 
to  follow  in  the  knight's  trail,  and,  if  he  were  able,  to  fall 
upon  him  that  very  night  in  camp,  or  to  strike  out  a  path 
of  his  own,  and  seek  to  place  himself  between  Sir  Daniel 
and  his  destination. 

Either  scheme  was  open  to  serious  objection,  and  Dick, 
who  feared  to  expose  Joanna  to  the  hazards  of  a  fight,  had 
not  yet  decided  between  them  when  he  reached  the  bor- 
ders of  the  wood. 

At  this  point  Sir  Daniel  had  turned  a  little  to  his  left, 
and  then  plunged  straight  under  a  grove  of  very  lofty  tim- 
ber. His  party  had  then  formed  to  a  narrower  front,  in 
order  to  pass  between  the  trees,  and  the  track  was  trod 
proportionally  deeper  in  the  snow.  The  eye  followed  it, 
under  the  leafless  tracery  of  the  oaks,  running  direct  and 
narrow  ;  the  trees  stood  over  it,  with  knotty  joints  and  the 
great,  uplifted  forest  of  their  boughs  ;  there  was  no  sound, 
whether  of  man  or  beast — not  so  much  as  the  stii-ring  of 
a  robin ;  and  over  the  field  of  snow  the  winter  sun  lay 
golden  among  netted  shadows. 

"  How  say  ye,"  asked  Dick  of  one  of  the  men,  "  to  follow 
straight  on,  or  strike  across  for  Tunstall  ?  " 

"Sir  Eichard,"  replied  the  man-at-arms,  "I  would  fol- 
low the  line  until  they  scatter." 

"Ye  are,  doubtless,  right,"  returned  Dick;  "but  we 


NIGHT    IN   THE   WOODS.  293 

came  right  hastily  upon  the  errand,  even  as  the  time  com- 
manded. Here  are  no  houses,  neither  for  food  nor  shel- 
ter, and  by  the  morrow's  dawn  we  shall  know  both  cold 
fingers  and  an  empty  belly.  How  say  ye,  lads  ?  Will  ye 
stand  a  pinch  for  expedition's  sake,  or  shall  we  turn  by 
Holy  wood  and  sup  with  Mother  Chui'ch  ?  The  case  being 
somewhat  doubtful,  I  will  drive  no  man  ;  yet  if  ye  would 
sufi'er  me  to  lead  you,  ye  would  choose  the  first." 

The  men  answered,  almost  with  one  voice,  that  they 
would  follow  Sir  Eichard  where  he  would. 

And  Dick,  setting  spur  to  his  horse,  began  once  more  to 
go  forward. 

The  snow  in  the  trail  had  been  trodden  very  hard,  and 
the  pursuers  had  thus  a  great  advantage  over  the  pur- 
sued. They  pushed  on,  indeed,  at  a  round  trot,  two  hun- 
di-ed  hoofs  beating  alternately  on  the  dull  pavement  of  the 
snow,  and  the  jingle  of  weapons  and  the  snorting  of  horses 
raising  a  warlike  noise  along  the  arches  of  the  silent  wood. 

Presently,  the  wide  slot  of  the  pursued  came  out  upon 
the  high  road  from  Holy  wood ;  it  was  there,  for  a  moment, 
indistinguishable  ;  and,  where  it  once  more  plunged  into 
the  unbeaten  snow  upon  the  farther  side,  Dick  was  sur- 
prised to  see  it  naiTOwer  and  lighter  trod.  Plainly,  profit- 
ing by  the  road,  Sir  Daniel  had  begun  already  to  scatter 
his  command. 

At  all  hazards,  one  chance  being  equal  to  another,  Dick 
continued  to  pursue  the  straight  trail ;  and  that,  after  an 
hour's  riding,  in  which  it  led  into  the  very  depths  of  the 


294  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

forest,  suddenly  split,  like  a  bursting  shell,  into  two  dozen 
others,  leading  to  every  point  of  the  compass^ 

Dick  drew  bridle  in  despair.  The  short  winter's  day 
was  near  an  end  ;  the  sun,  a  dull  red  orange,  shorn  of  rays, 
swam  low  among  the  leafless  thickets  ;  the  shadows  were 
a  mile  long  upon  the  snow ;  the  frost  bit  cinielly  at  the  liu- 
ger-nails  ;  and  the  breath  and  steam  of  the  horses  mounted 
in  a  cloud. 

"  Well,  we  are  outwitted,"  Dick  confessed.  "  Strike  we 
for  Holy  wood,  after  all.  It  is  still  nearer  us  than  Tunstall 
— or  should  be  by  the  station  of  the  sun." 

So  they  wheeled  to  their  left,  turning  their  backs  on  the 
red  shield  of  sun,  and  made  across  country  for  the  abbey. 
But  now  times  were  changed  with  them ;  they  could  no 
longer  spank  forth  briskly  on  a  path  beaten  firm  by  the 
passage  of  their  foes,  and  for  a  goal  to  which  that  path 
itself  conducted  them.  Now  they  must  plough  at  a  dull 
pace  through  the  encumbering  snow,  continually  pausing 
to  decide  their  coui'se,  continually  floundering  in  drifts. 
The  sun  soon  left  them  ;  the  glow  of  the  west  decayed;  and 
presently  they  were  wandering  in  a  shadow  of  blackness, 
under  frosty  stars. 

Presently,  indeed,  the  moon  would  clear  the  hilltops, 
and  they  might  resume  their  march.  But  till  then,  every 
random  step  might  carry  them  wider  of  their  march. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  camp  and  wait. 

Sentries  were  posted ;  a  spot  of  ground  was  cleared  of 
snow,  and,  after  some  failures,  a  good  fire  blazed  in  the 


NIGHT    IX   THE    WOODS.  295 

midst.  The  men-at-arms  sat  close  about  this  forest  hearth, 
sharing  such  provisions  as  they  had,  and  passing  about  the 
flask  ;  and  Dick,  having  collected  the  most  delicate  of  the 
rough  and  scanty  fare,  brought  it  to  Lord  Risingham'3 
niece,  where  she  sat  apart  from  the  soldiery  against  a  tree. 

She  sat  upon  one  horse-cloth,  wrapped  in  another,  and 
stared  straight  before  her  at  the  firelit  scene.  At  the  of- 
fer of  food  she  started,  like  one  wakened  from  a  dream, 
and  then  silently  refused. 

"Madam,"  said  Dick,  '-'let  me  beseech  you,  punish  me 
not  so  cruelly.  "Wherein  I  have  offended  you,  I  know  not ; 
I  have,  indeed,  carried  you  away,  but  with  a  friendly  vio- 
lence ;  I  have,  indeed,  exposed  you  to  the  inclemency  of 
night,  but  the  hurry  that  lies  upon  me  hath  for  its  end  the 
preservation  of  another,  who  is  no  less  frail  and  no  less 
unfriended  than  yourself.  At  least,  madam,  punish  not 
yourself  ;  and  eat,  if  not  for  hunger,  then  for  strength." 

''  I  will  eat  nothing  at  the  hands  that  slew  my  kinsman," 
she  replied. 

"Dear  madam,"  Dick  cried,  "I  swear  to  you  upon  the 
rood  I  touched  him  not." 

"Swear  to  me  that  he  still  lives,"  she  returned. 

"  I  will  not  palter  with  you,"  answered  Dick.  "  Pity 
bids  me  to  wound  you.  In  my  heart  I  do  believe  him 
dead." 

"  And  ye  ask  me  to  eat !  "  she  cried.  "  Ay,  and  they 
call  you  '  sir  * !  Y'  have  won  your  spurs  by  my  good  kins- 
man's murder.     And  had  I  not  been  fool  and  traitor  both, 


296  THE   BLACK   AEEOW. 

and  saYed  you  in  your  enemy's  house,  ye  should  have  died 
the  death,  and  he — he  that  was  Tvorth  twelve  of  you — ■ 
were  living." 

*'I  did  but  my  man's  best,  even  as  your  kinsman  did 
upon  the  other  party,"  answered  Dick.  "  "Were  he  still 
living — as  I  vow  to  Heaven  I  wish  it  I — he  would  praise, 
not  blame  me." 

"  Sii'  Daniel  hath  told  me,"  she  replied.  *'He  marked 
you  at  the  barricade.  L'pon  you,  he  saith,  their  party 
foundered  ;  it  was  you  that  won  the  battle.  Well,  then, 
it  was  you  that  killed  my  good  Lord  Risingham,  as  sure 
as  though  ye  had  strangled  him.  And  ye  would  have  me 
eat  with  you — and  your  hands  not  washed  from  killing  ? 
But  Sir  Daniel  hath  sworn  your  downfall.  He  'tis  that 
will  avenge  me  !  " 

The  unfortunate  Dick  was  plunged  in  gloom.  Old 
Arblaster  returned  upon  his  mind,  and  he  groaned  aloud. 

"  Do  ye  hold  me  so  guilty  ? "  he  said  ;  "  you  that  de- 
fended me — you  that  are  Joanna's  friend  ?  " 

"  ^Yhat  made  ye  in  the  battle  ?  "  she  retorted.  "  Y'  are 
of  no  party  ;  y'  are  but  a  lad — but  legs  and  body,  without 
government  of  wit  or  counsel !  Wherefore  did  ye  fight  ? 
For  the  love  of  hurt,  pardy  !  " 

"  Nay,"  cried  Dick,  "  I  know  not.  But  as  the  realm  of 
England  goes,  if  that  a  poor  gentleman  fight  not  upon 
the  one  side,  perforce  he  must  fight  upon  the  other.  He 
may  not  stand  alone  ;  'tis  not  in  nature." 

"They  that  have  no  judgment  should  not  draw  the 


NIGHT    IN    THE    AVOODS.  207 

sword,"  replied  the  young  lady.  "  Ye  that  fight  but  for  a 
hazard,  what  are  ye  but  a  butcher  ?  War  is  but  noble  by 
the  cause,  and  y'  have  disgi^aced  it.'"' 

"Madam,"  said  the  miserable  Dick,  "I  do  partly  see 
mine  error.  I  have  made  too  much  haste  ;  I  have  been 
busy  before  my  time.  Already  I  stole  a  ship — thinking,  I 
do  swear  it,  to  do  well — and  thereby  brought  about  the 
death  of  many  innocent,  and  the  grief  and  ruin  of  a  poor 
old  man  whose  face  this  very  day  hath  stabbed  me  like  a 
dagger.  And  for  this  morning,  I  did  but  design  to  do 
m^'self  credit,  and  get  fame  to  marry  with,  and,  behold  ! 
I  have  brought  about  the  death  of  your  dear  kinsman  that 
was  good  to  me.  And  what  besides,  I  know  not.  For, 
alas  !  I  may  have  set  York  upon  the  throne,  and  that  may 
be  the  worser  cause,  and  may  do  hurt  to  England.  O, 
madam,  I  do  see  my  sin.  I  am  unfit  for  life.  I  will,  for 
penance  sake  and  to  avoid  worse  evil,  once  I  have  finished 
this  adventure,  get  me  to  a  cloister.  I  will  forswear 
Joanna  and  the  trade  of  arms.  I  will  be  a  friar,  and  pray 
for  your  good  kinsman's  sj^irit  all  my  days."' 

It  appeared  to  Dick,  in  this  extremity  of  his  humiliation 
and  repentance,  that  the  young  lady  had  laughed. 

Eaising  his  countenance,  he  found  her  looking  down 
upon  him,  in  the  fire-light,  with  a  somewhat  pecuhar  but 
not  unkind  expression. 

*'  Madam,"  he  cried,  thinking  the  laughter  to  have  been 
an  illusion  of  his  hearing,  but  still,  from  her  changed 
looks,  hoping  to  have  touched  her  heart,   "  madam,  will 


298  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

not  this  content  you  ?  I  give  up  all  to  undo  what  I  have 
done  amiss ;  I  make  heaven  certain  for  Lord  Eisingham. 
And  all  this  upon  the  very  day  that  I  have  won  my  spurs, 
and  thought  myself  the  happiest  young  gentleman  on 
ground." 

"  O  boy,"  she  said — "  good  boy  !  " 

And  then,  to  the  extreme  surprise  of  Dick,  she  first  very 
tenderly  wijDed  the  tears  away  fi'om  his  cheeks,  and  then, 
as  if  yielding  to  a  sudden  impulse,  threw  both  her  arms 
about  his  neck,  drew  up  his  face,  and  kissed  him.  A 
pitiful  bewilderment  came  over  simple-minded  Dick. 

"But  come,"  she  said,  with  great  cheerfulness,  "you 
that  are  a  captain,  ye  must  eat.     "Why  sup  ye  not  ?  " 

''  Dear  Mistress  Risingham,"  replied  Dick,  "  I  did  but 
wait  first  upon  my  prisoner  ;  but,  to  say  truth,  penitence 
will  no  longer  suffor  me  to  endure  the  sight  of  food.  I 
were  better  to  fast,  dear  lady,  and  to  pray." 

"Call  me  Alicia,'' she  s.iid  ;  "are  we  not  old  friends? 
And  now,  come,  I  will  eat  with  you,  bit  for  bit  aud  sup 
for  sup  ;  so  if  ye  eat  not,  neither  will  I ;  but  if  ye  eat 
hearty,  I  will  dine  like  a  ploughman." 

So  there  and  then  she  fell  to  ;  and  Dick,  who  had  an 
excellent  stomach,  proceeded  to  bear  her  couipany,  at  first 
with  great  reluctance,  but  gradually,  as  he  entered  into 
the  spirit,  with  more  and  more  ^agour  and  devotion  : 
until,  at  List,  he  forgot  even  to  watch  his  model,  and 
most  heartily  repaired  the  expenses  of  his  day  of  labour 
and  excitement. 


NIGHT    IN    THE    WOODS.  299 

"Lion-driver,"  she  said,  at  length,  *'ye  do  not  admii-e  a 
maid  in  a  man's  jerkin  ?  '' 

The  moon  ^Yas  now  up  ;  and  they  were  only  waiting  to 
repose  the  wearied  horses.  By  the  moon's  light,  the  still 
penitent  but  now  well-fed  Richard  beheld  her  looking 
somewhat  coquettishiy  down  upon  him. 

"Madam" he    stammered,    surprised   at   this  new 

turn  in  her  manners. 

"Nay,"  she  interrupted,  "it  skills  not  to  deny  ;  Joanna 
hath  told  me,  but  come,  Sir  Lion-driver,  look  at  me — am 
I  am  so  homely — come  !  " 

And  she  made  bright  eyes  at  him. 

"Ye  are  something  smallish,  indeed" began  Dick. 

And  here  again,  she  interrupted  him,  this  time  with  a 
ringing  peal  of  laughter  that  completed  his  confusion  and 
suq^rise. 

"  Smallisli  I "'  she  cried.  "  Xay,  now,  be  honest  as  ye 
are  bold  ;  I  am  a  dwarf,  or  little  better  ;  but  for  all  that 
— come,  tell  me  I — for  all  that,  iiassably  fair  to  look  upon  ; 
is't  not  so  ?  " 

"  Xay,  madam,  exceedingly  fair,"  said  the  distressed 
knight,  pitifully  trying  to  seem  easy. 

"And  a  man  would  be  right  glad  to  wed  me?"  she 
pursued. 

"  0,  madam,  right  glad  I  "  agreed  Dick. 

"Call  me  Alicia,"  said  she. 

"  AHcia,"  quoth  Sir  Eichard. 

''  ^Yell,  then,  lion-driver,"  she  continued,  "  sith  that  ve 


300  THE    BLACK   AEROW. 

slew  my  kinsman,  and  left  me  without  stay,  ye  owe  me,  in 
honour,  every  reparation  ;  do  ye  not  ?  " 

"  I  do,  madam,"  said  Dick.  "  Although,  upon  my 
heart,  I  do  hold  me  but  partially  guilty  of  that  brave 
knight's  blood." 

"  Would  ye  evade  me?"  she  cried. 

"  Madam,  not  so.  I  have  told  you  ;  at  your  bidding,  I 
will  even  turn  me  a  monk,"  said  Richard. 

"  Then,  in  honour,  ye  belong  to  me  ?  "  she  concluded. 

"In   honour,  madam,  I  suppose" began  the  young 

man. 

"Go  to!"  she  interrupted;  ''ye  are  too  full  of 
catches.  In  honour  do  ye  belong  to  me,  till  ye  have  paid 
the  evil?" 

"  In  honour,  I  do,"  said  Dick. 

"  Hear,  then,"  she  continued  ;  **  Ye  would  make  but  a 
sad  friar,  methinks  ;  and  since  I  am  to  dispose  of  you  at 
pleasure,  I  will  even  take  you  for  my  husband.  Nay, 
now,  no  words  !  "  cried  she.  "  They  will  avail  you  noth- 
ing. For  see  how  just  it  is,  that  you  who  deprived  me  of 
one  home,  should  supply  me  with  another.  And  as  for 
Joanna,  she  will  be  the  first,  believe  me,  to  commend  the 
change  ;  for,  after  all,  as  we  be  dear  friends,  what  matters 
it  with  which  of  us  ye  wed  ?     Not  one  whit  I  " 

"Madam,"  said  Dick,  "I  will  go  into  a  cloister,  an  ye 
please  to  bid  me  ;  but  to  wed  mth  anyone  in  this  big 
world  besides  Joanna  Sedley  is  what  I  will  consent  to 
neither  for  man's  force  nor  yet  for  lady's  pleasure.    Pardon 


NIGHT    IX    THE   WOODS.  301 

me  if  I  speak  my  plain  thoughts  plainly  ;  but  where  a 
maid  is  very  bold,  a  poor  man  must  even  be  the  bolder." 

"Dick,"  she  said,  "ye  sweet  boy,  ye  must  come  and 
kiss  me  for  that  word.  Xay,  fear  not,  ye  shall  kiss  me  for 
Joanna  ;  and  when  we  meet,  I  shall  give  it  back  to  her, 
and  say  I  stole  it.  And  as  for  what  ye  owe  me,  why,  dear 
simpleton,  methinks  ye  were  not  alone  in  that  great  bat- 
tle ;  and  even  if  York  be  on  the  throne,  it  was  not  you 
that  set  him  there.  But  for  a  good,  sweet,  honest  heart, 
Dick,  y'  are  all  that ;  and  if  I  could  find  it  in  my  soul  to 
envy  your  Joanna  anything,  I  would  even  envy  her  your 
love." 


CHAPTER   YL 

NIGHT    IS    THE   WOODS  {concluded)  :    DICK    AND    JOAN. 

The  horses  had  by  this  time  finished  the  small  store  of 
provender,  and  fully  breathed  from  their  fatigues.  At 
Dick's  command,  the  fii'e  was  smothered  in  snow  ;  and 
while  his  men  got  once  more  wearily  to  saddle,  he  him- 
self, remembering,  somewhat  late,  true  woodland  caution, 
chose  a  tall  oak  and  nimbly  clambered  to  the  topmost 
fork.  Hence  he  could  look  far  abroad  on  the  moonlit  and 
snow-paven  forest.  On  the  south-west,  dark  against  the 
horizon,  stood  those  upland,  heathy  quarters  where  he 
and  Joanna  had  met  with  the  terrifying  misadventure  of 
the  leper.  And  there  his  eye  was  caught  by  a  spot  of 
ruddy  brightness  no  bigger  than  a  needle's  eye. 


602  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

He  blamed  himself  sharply  for  his  previous  neglect 
Were  that,  as  it  appeared  to  be,  the  shining  of  Sir  Dan- 
iel's camp-lire,  he  should  long  ago  have  seen  and  marched 
for  it ;  above  all,  he  should,  for  no  consideration,  have  an 
nounced  his  neighborhood  by  lighting  a  fire  of  his  own. 
But  now  he  must  no  longer  squander  valuable  hours. 
The  direct  way  to  the  uplands  was  about  two  miles  in 
length  ;  but  it  was  crossed  by  a  very  deep,  precipitous 
dingle,  impassable  to  mounted  men  ;  and  for  the  sake  of 
speed,  it  seemed  to  Dick  advisable  to  desert  the  horses 
and  attempt  the  adventure  on  foot. 

Ten  men  were  left  to  guard  the  horses  ;  signals  were 
agreed  upon  by  which  they  could  communicate  in  case  of 
need  ;  and  Dick  set  forth  at  the  head  of  the  remainder, 
Alicia  Risingham  walking  stoutly  by  his  side. 

The  men  had  freed  themselves  of  heavy  armour,  and 
left  behind  their  lances  ;  and  they  now  marched  with  a  very 
good  spirit  in  the  frozen  snow,  and  under  the  exhilarating 
lustre  of  the  moon.  The  descent  into  the  dingle,  where 
a  stream  strained  sobbing  through  the  snow  and  ice,  was 
effected  with  silence  and  order  ;  and  on  the  further  side, 
being  then  within  a  short  half  mile  of  where  Dick  had 
seen  the  ghmmer  of  the  fire,  the  party  halted  to  breathe 
before  the  attack. 

In  the  vast  silence  of  the  wood,  the  Hghtest  sounds  were 
audible  from  far  ;  and  Alicia,  who  was  keen  of  hearing, 
held  up  her  finger  warningly  and  stooped  to  listen.  AH 
followed  her  example  ;   but   besides   the  groans   of  the 


NIGHT   IN   THE    WOODS.  303 

choked  brook  in  the  dingle  close  behind,  and  the  barking 
of  a  fox  at  a  distance  of  many  miles  among  the  forest,  to 
Dick's  acutest  hearkening,  not  a  breg-th  was  audible. 

''But  yet,  for  sure,  I  heard  the  clash  of  harness,"  whis- 
pered Alicia. 

"Madam,"  returned  Dick,  who  was  more  afraid  of  that 
young  lady  than  of  ten  stout  warriors,  "  I  would  not  hint 
ye  were  mistaken ;  but  it  might  weU  have  come  from 
either  of  the  camps." 

*' It  came  not  thence.  It  came  from  westward,"  she  de- 
clared. 

"It  may  be  what  it  will,"  returned  Dick  ;  ''  and  it  must 
be  as  Heaven  please.  Eeck  we  not  a  jot,  but  push  on  the 
livelier,  and  put  it  to  the  touch.  Up,  friends — enough 
breathed." 

As  they  advanced,  the  snow  became  more  and  more 
trampled  with  hoof-marks,  and  it  was  plain  that  they  were 
drawing  near  to  the  encampment  of  a  considerable  force 
of  mounted  men.  Presently  they  could  see  the  smoke  pour- 
in"-  from  among  the  trees,  ruddily  coloured  on  its  lower 
edge  and  scattering  bright  sparks. 

And  here,  pursuant  to  Dick's  orders,  his  men  began  to 
open  out,  creeping  stealthily  in  the  covert,  to  surround  on 
every  side  the  camp  of  their  opponents.  He  himself,  plac- 
ing Alicia  in  the  shelter  of  a  bulky  oak,  stok  straight 
forth  in  the  dii*ection  of  the  fire. 

At  last,  through  an  opening  of  the  wood,  his  eye  em- 
braced the  gcene  of  the  encampment.     The  fire  had  been 


304  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

built  upon  a  heathy  hummock  of  the  ground,  surrounded 
on  three  sides  by  thicket,  and  it  now  burned  very  strong, 
roaiTDg  aloud  and  brandishing  flames.  Around  it  there 
sat  not  quite  a  dozen  j^eojole,  warmly  cloaked ;  but  though 
the  neighbouring  snow  was  trampled  down  as  by  a  regi- 
ment, Dick  looked  in  Tain  for  any  horse.  He  began  to 
have  a  terrible  misgiving  that  he  was  out-manoeuvi-ed. 
At  the  same  time,  in  a  tall  man  with  a  steel  salet,  who  was 
spreading  his  hands  before  the  blaze,  he  recognized  his 
old  friend  and  still  kindly  enemy,  Bennet  Hatch ;  and  in 
two  others,  sitting  a  little  back,  he  made  out,  even  in 
their  male  disguise,  Joanna  Sedley.  and  Sir  Daniel's  wife. 

"  Well,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "  even  if  I  lose  my  horses, 
let  me  get  my  Joanna,  and  why  should  I  complain?  " 

And  then,  from  the  further  side  of  the  encampment, 
there  came  a  little  whistle,  announcing  that  his  men  had 
joined,  and  the  investment  was  complete. 

Bennet,  at  the  sound,  started  to  his  feet ;  but  ere  he 
had  time  to  spring  upon  his  arms,  Dick  hailed  him. 

"Bennet,"  he  said — "Bennet,  old  friend,  yield  ye.  Ye 
will  but  spill  men's  lives  in  vain,  if  ye  resist." 

"  'Tis  Master  Shelton,  by  St.  Barbary !  "  cried  Hatch. 
*'  Yield  me  ?     Ye  ask  much.     What  force  have  ye  ?  " 

"  I  tell  you,  Bennet,  ye  are  both  outnumbered  and  be- 
girt," said  Dick.  "  Csesar  and  Charlemagne  would  cry  for 
quarter.  I  have  two  score  men  at  my  whistle,  and  with 
one  shoot  of  arrows  I  could  answer  for  you  all." 

"  Master  Dick,"  said  Bennet,  "  it  goes  against  my  heart ; 


NIGHT    IN    THE    WOODS.  305 

but  I  must  do  my  duty.  The  saints  helj)  you  ! "  And 
therewith  he  raised  a  Httle  tucket  to  his  mouth  and  wound 
a  rousing  call. 

Then  followed  a  moment  of  confusion  ;  for  while  Dick, 
fearing  for  the  ladies,  still  hesitated  to  give  the  word  to 
shoot,  Hatch's  little  band  sprang  to  their  weapons  and 
formed  back  to  back  as  for  a  fierce  resistance.  In  the 
hurry  of  theu*  change  of  place,  Joanna  sprang  from  her 
seat  and  ran  like  an  aiTow  to  her  lover's  side. 

*•'  Here,  Dick  ! "  she  cried,  as  she  clasped  his  hand  in 
hers. 

But  Dick  still  stood  iiTesolute  ;  he  was  yet  young  to 
the  more  deplorable  necessities  of  war,  and  the  thought 
of  old  Lady  Brackley  checked  the  command  upon  his 
tongue.  His  own  men  became  restive.  Some  of  them 
cried  on  him  by  name  ;  others,  of  their  own  accord,  began 
to  shoot ;  and  at  the  first  discharge  poor  Bennet  bit  the 
dust.     Then  Dick  awoke. 

"  On  !  "  he  cried.  "  Shoot,  boys,  and  keep  to  cover. 
England  and  York  !  " 

But  just  then  the  dull  beat  of  many  horses  on  the  snow 
suddenly  arose  in  the  hollow  ear  of  the  night,  and,  with 
incredible  swiftness,  drew  nearer  and  swelled  louder.  At 
the  same  time,  answering  tuckets  repeated  and  repeated 
Hatch's  call. 

"Bally,  rally!"  cried  Dick.     "Rally  upon  me!     Bally 

for  your  lives  !  " 

But  his  men — afoot,  scattered,  taken  in  the  hour  when 
20 


306  THE    BLACK    AliKOW. 

they  had  counted  on  an  easy  triumph — began  instead  to 
give  ground  severally,  and  either  stood  wavering  or  dis- 
persed into  the  thickets.  And  when  the  first  of  the  horse- 
men came  charging  through  the  open  avenues  and  fiercely 
riding  their  steeds  into  the  underwood,  a  few  stragglers 
were  overthrown  or  speared  among  the  bmsh,  but  the 
bulk  of  Dick's  command  had  simply  melted  at  the  rumor 
of  their  coming. 

Dick  stood  for  a  moment,  bitterly  recognizing  the  fruits 
of  his  precipitate  and  unwise  valor.  Sir  Daniel  had  seen 
the  fire ;  he  had  moved  out  with  his  main  force,  whether 
to  attack  his  pursuers  or  to  take  them  in  the  rear  if  they 
should  venture  the  assault.  His  had  been  throughout 
the  part  of  a  sagacious  captain  ;  Dick's  the  conduct  of  an 
eager  boy.  And  here  was  the  young  knight,  his  sweet- 
heart, indeed,  holding  him  tightly  by  the  hand,  but  other- 
wise alone,  his  whole  command  of  men  and  horses  dis- 
persed in  the  night  and  the  wide  forest,  like  a  paper  of 
pins  in  a  hay  barn. 

"The  saints  enlighten  me  !  "  he  thought.  "It  is  well  I 
was  knighted  for  this  morning's  matter ;  this  doth  me  little 
honour." 

And  thereupon,  still  holding  Joanna,  he  began  to  run. 

The  silence  of  the  night  was  now  shattered  by  the  shouts 
of  the  men  of  Tunstall,  as  they  galloped  hither  and  thither, 
hunting  fugitives  ;  and  Dick  broke  boldly  through  the 
underwood  and  ran  straight  before  him  like  a  deer.  The 
silver  clearness  of  the  moon  upon  the  open  snow  increased, 


NIGHT    IX    THE    WOODS.  307 

by  contrast,  the  obscurity  of  the  thickets ;  and  the  extreme 
dispersion  of  the  vanquished  led  the  pursuers  into  widely 
divergent  paths.  Hence,  in  but  a  little  while,  Dick  and 
Joanna  paused,  in  a  close  covert,  and  heai'd  the  sounds  of 
the  pursuit,  scattering  abroad,  indeed,  in  all  directions, 
but  yet  fainting  ah'eady  in  the  distance, 

"An  I  had  but  kept  a  reserve  of  them  together,"  Dick 
cried,  bitterly,  "I  could  have  turned  the  tables  yet! 
Well,  we  live  and  leai-n  ;  next  time,  it  shall  go  better,  by 
the  rood." 

"Nay,  Dick,"  said  Joanna,  "what  matters  it?  Here  we 
are  together  once  again." 

He  looked  at  her,  and  there  she  was — John  !Matcham, 
as  of  yore,  in  hose  and  doublet.  But  now  he  knew  her  ^ 
now,  even  in  that  ungainly  dress,  she  smiled  uj)on  him, 
bright  with  love  ;   and  his  heart  was   transported  with 

joy. 

"Sweetheart,"  he  said,  "if  ye  forgive  this  blunderer, 
what  care  I  ?  Make  we  direct  for  Holy  wood ;  there  lieth 
your  good  guardian  and  my  better  friend.  Lord  Foxham. 
There  shall  we  be  wed ;  and  whether  poor  or  wealthy, 
famous  or  unknown,  what  matters  it  ?  This  day,  dear 
love,  I  won  my  spurs  ;  I  was  commended  by  great  men  for 
my  valour ;  I  thought  myself  the  goodliest  man  of  war  in 
all  broad  England.  Then,  first,  I  fell  out  of  my  favour 
with  the  great ;  and  now  have  I  been  well  thrashed,  and 
clean  lost  my  soldiers.  There  was  a  downfall  for  conceit ! 
But,  dear,  I  care  not — dear,  if  ye  still  love  me  and  will 


308  THE    BLACK    ARKOW. 

wed,  I  would  have  my  knighthood  done  away,  and  mind 
it  not  a  jot." 

*'  My  Dick !  "  she  cried.     "  And  did  they  knight  you  ?  " 

"Ay,  dear,  ye  are  my  lady  now,"  he  answered,  fondly  ; 
"or  ye  shall,  ere  noon  to-morrow — will  ye  not?" 

"That  will  I,  Dick,  with  a  glad  heart,"  she  answered. 

"  Ay,  sir  ?  Methought  ye  were  to  be  a  monk  ! "  said  a 
voice  in  their  ears. 

"  Alicia  ! "  cried  Joanna. 

"Even  so,"  replied  the  young  lady,  coming  forward. 
"AUcia,  whom  ye  left  for  dead,  and  whom  your  lion-driver 
found,  and  brought  to  life  again,  and,  by  my  sooth,  made 
love  to,  if  ye  want  to  know ! " 

"  I'll  not  believe  it,"  cried  Joanna.     "  Dick  !  " 

"  Dick  !  "  mimicked  Ahcia.  "  Dick,  indeed  !  Ay,  fair 
sir,  and  ye  desert  poor  damsels  in  distress,"  she  continued, 
turning  to  the  young  knight.  "  Ye  leave  them  planted 
behind  oaks.  But  they  say  true — the  age  of  chivalry  is 
dead." 

"  Madam,"  cried  Dick,  in  despair,  "  upon  my  soul  I  had 
forgotten  you  outright.  Madam,  ye  must  try  to  pardon 
me.     Ye  see,  I  had  new  found  Joanna !  " 

"  I  did  not  suppose  that  ye  had  done  it  o'  purpose," 
she  retorted.  "  But  I  will  be  cruelly  avenged.  I  will  tell 
a  secret  to  my  Lady  Shelton— she  that  is  to  be,"  she  added, 
curtseying.  "Joanna,"  she  continued,  "I  believe,  upon 
my  soul,  your  sweetheart  is  a  bold  fellow  in  a  fight,  but  he 
is,  let  me  tell  you  plainly,  the  softest-hearted  simpleton  in 


NIGHT    IN    THE    WOODS.  309 

England.  Go  to — ye  may  do  your  pleasure  with  him  ! 
And  now,  fool  children,  first  kiss  me,  either  one  of  you,  for 
luck  and  kindness  ;  and  then  kiss  each  other  just  one 
minute  by  the  glass,  and  not  one  second  longer  ;  and  then 
let  us  all  three  set  forth  for  Holywood  as  fast  as  we  can 
stir  ;  for  these  woods,  methinks,  are  full  of  x^eril  and  ex- 
ceeding cold." 

"  But  did  my  Dick  make  love  to  you  ?  "  asked  Joanna, 
clinging  to  her  sweetheart's  side. 

"Nay,  fool  girl,"  returned  Alicia  ;  "it  was  I  made  love 
to  him.  I  offered  to  marry  him,  indeed  ;  but  he  bade  me 
go  marry  with  my  likes.  These  were  his  words.  Nay, 
that  I  will  say  :  he  is  more  plain  than  pleasant.  But  now, 
children,  for  the  sake  of  sense,  set  forward.  Shall  we  go 
once  more  over  the  dingle,  or  push  straight  for  Holy^ 
wood?" 

"Why,"  said  Dick,  "I  would  like  dearly  to  get  upon  a 
horse  ;  for  I  have  been  sore  mauled  and  beaten,  one  way 
and  another,  these  last  days,  and  my  poor  body  is  one 
bruise.  But  how  think  ye  ?  If  the  men,  upon  the  alarm 
of  the  fighting,  had  fled  away,  we  should  have  gone  about 
for  nothing.  'Tis  but  some  three  short  miles  to  Holywood 
direct ;  the  bell  hath  not  beat  nine ;  the  snow  is  pretty 
firm  to  walk  upon,  the   moon  clear  ;  how  if  we  went  even 


as  we  are 


9" 


"  Agreed,"  cried  Alicia  ;  but  Joanna  only  pressed  upon 
Dick's  arm. 

Forth,  then,  they  went,   through  open  leafless  gToves 


310  THE    BLACK    AKROW. 

and  down  snow-clad  alleys,  under  the  -white  face  of  the 
winter  moon  ;  Dick  and  Joanna  walking  hand  in  hand  and 
in  a  heaven  of  pleasure  ;  and  their  light-minded  compan- 
ion, her  own  bereavements  heartily  forgotten,  followed  a 
pace  or  two  behind,  now  rallying  them  upon  their  silence, 
and  now  drawing  happy  pictures  of  their  future  and 
united  Hves. 

Still,  indeed,  in  the  distance  of  the  wood,  the  riders  of 
Tunstall  might  be  heard  urging  their  pursuit ;  and  from 
time  to  time  cries  or  the  clash  of  steel  announced  the 
shock  of  enemies.  But  in  these  young  folk,  bred  among 
the  alarms  of  war,  and  fresh  from  such  a  multiplicity  of 
dangers,  neither  fear  nor  pity  could  be  lightly  wakened. 
Content  to  find  the  sounds  still  drawing  farther  and  farther 
away,  they  gave  up  their  hearts  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
hour,  walking  already,  as  Alicia  put  it,  in  a  wedding  pro- 
cession ;  and  neither  the  rude  solitude  of  the  forest,  nor 
the  cold  of  the  freezing  night,  had  any  force  to  shadow  or 
distract  their  happiness. 

At  length,  from  a  rising  hill,  they  looked  below  them  on 
the  dell  of  Holywood.  The  great  -windows  of  the  forest 
abbey  shone  with  torch  and  candle  ;  its  high  pinnacles 
and  spires  arose  very  clear  and  silent,  and  the  gold  rood 
upon  the  toj^most  summit  glittered  brightly  in  the  moon. 
All  about  it,  in  the  open  glade,  camp-fires  were  burning, 
and  the  ground  was  thick  with  huts  ;  and  across  the  midst 
of  the  picture  the  frozen  river  curved. 

"  Bv  the  mass,"  said  Richai'd,  "  there  are  Lord  Foxham's 


^^GHT   IN    THE   WOODS.  fMl 

fellows  still  encamped.  The  messenger  hatli  certainly  mis« 
carried.  Well,  then,  so  better.  We  have  x^ower  at  hand 
to  face  Sir  Daniel." 

But  if  Lord  Foxham's  men  still  lay  encamped  in  the 
long  holm  at  Holy  wood,  it  was  from  a  different  reason  from 
the  one  sujDposed  by  Dick.  They  had  marched,  indeed, 
for  Shoreby  ;  but  ere  they  were  half  way  thither,  a  second 
messenger  met  them,  and  bade  them  return  to  their  morn- 
ing's camp,  to  bar  the  road  against  Lancastrian  fugitives, 
and  to  be  so  much  nearer  to  the  main  army  of  York.  For 
Eichard  of  Gloucester,  having  finished  the  battle  and 
stamped  out  his  foes  in  that  district,  was  already  on  the 
march  to  rejoin  his  brother  ;  and  not  long  after  the  return 
of  my  Lord  Foxham's  retainers,  Crookback  himself  drew 
rein  before  the  abbey  door.  It  was  in  honour  of  this 
august  visitor  that  the  windows  shone  with  lights  ;  and  at 
the  hour  of  Dick's  arrival  with  his  sweetheart  and  her 
friend,  the  whole  ducal  party  was  being  entertained  in  the 
refectory  with  the  splendour  of  that  jDowerful  and  luxu- 
rious monaster}\ 

Dick,  not  quite  with  his  good  will,  was  brought  before 
them.  Gloucester,  sick  with  fatigue,  sat  leaning  upon  one 
hand  his  white  and  terrifying  countenance  ;  Lord  Foxham, 
haK  recovered  from  his  wound,  was  in  a  place  of  honour 
on  his  left. 

"How,  sir?"  asked  Eichard.  "Have  ye  brought  me 
Sir  Daniel's  head  ?  " 

"My  lord  duke,"  rex^lied  Dick,  stoutly  enough,  but  with 


312  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

a  qualm  at  heart,  "  I  have  not  even  tlie  good  fortune  to 
return  with  my  command.  I  have  been,  so  please  your 
grace,  well  beaten." 

Gloucester  looked  upon  liim  with  a  formidable  fi'own. 

''I  gave  you  fifty  lances,^  sir,'"'  he  said. 

''My  lord  duke,  I  had  but  fifty  men-at-arms,"  replied 
the  young  knight. 

"How  is  this  ?  "  said  Gloucester.  "  He  did  ask  me  fifty 
lances." 

"May  it  please  your  grace,"  replied  Catesby,  smoothly, 
**  for  a  pursuit  we  gave  him  but  the  horsemen." 

"It  is  well,"  rephed  Eichard,  adding,  "  Shelton,  ye  may 

go." 

"  Stay  !  "  said  Lord  Foxham.  ' '  This  young  man  likewise 
had  a  charge  from  me.  It  may  be  he  hath  better  sped. 
Say,  Master  Shelton,  have  ye  found  the  maid  ?  " 

"  I  praise  the  saints,  my  lord,"  said  Dick,  "  she  is  in  this 
house." 

"Is  it  even  so?  Well,  then,  my  lord  the  duke,"  re- 
sumed Lord  Foxham,  "  with  your  good  will,  to-morrow, 
before  the  army  march,  I  do  propose  a  marriage.     This 


young  squire 

"Young  knight,"  interrupted  Catesby. 

*'  Say  ye  so,  Sir  William  ?  "  cried  Lord  Foxham. 

"I  did  myself,  and  for  good  service,  dub  him  knight/ 
said  Gloucester.     ''He   hath  twice  manfully  sei-ved  me. 


*  Teclinically,  the  term  "  lance  ''  included  a  not  quite  certain  num^ 
ber  of  foot  soldiers  attached  to  the  man-at-arms. 


dick's  revenge.  313 

It  is  not  valour  of  hands,  it  is  a  man's  mind  of  iron,  that 
he  lacks.  He  will  not  rise,  Lord  Foxham.  "lis  a  fellow 
that  will  fight  indeed  bravely  in  a  mellav,  but  hath  a 
capon's  heart.  Howbeit,  if  he  is  to  many,  marry  him  in 
the  name  of  Mary,  and  be  done  ! " 

'•  Nay,  he  is  a  brave  lad — I  know  it,"  said  Lord  Foxham. 
*•  Content  ye,  then.  Sir  Richai'd.  I  have  compounded  this 
anair  with  Master  Hamley,  and  to-morrow  ye  shall  wed." 

Whereupon  Dick  judged  it  prudent  to  withdraw  ;  but 
he  was  not  yet  clear  of  the  refectoiy,  when  a  man,  but 
newly  alighted  at  the  gate,  came  rimning  foiu'  stairs  at  a 
bound,  and,  brushing  through  the  abbey  servants,  threw 
himself  on  one  knee  before  the  duke. 

"  Victory,  my  lord,"  he  cried. 

And  before  Dick  had  got  to  the  chamber  set  apart  for 
him  as  Lord  Foxham's  guest,  the  troops  in  the  holm  were 
cheering  around  theh'  fires  ;  for  upon  that  same  day,  not 
twenty  miles  away,  a  second  crushing  blow  had  been  dealt 
to  the  power  of  Lancaster. 


CHAPTER  Vn.. 


DICK  S    REVENGE. 


The  next  morning  Dick  was  afoot  before  the  sun,  and 
having  dressed  himself  to  the  best  advantage  with  the  aid 
of  the  Lord  Foxham's   baggage,  and  got   good  reports 


314  THE   BLACK   ARROW. 

of  Joan,  he  set  forth  on  foot  to  walk  away  his  impa- 
tience. 

For  some  while  he  made  rounds  among  the  soldiery, 
who  were  getting  to  arms  in  the  wintry  twilight  of  the 
dawn  and  by  the  red  glow  of  torches  ;  but  gradually  he 
strolled  further  afield,  and  at  length  passed  clean  beyond 
the  outposts,  and  walked  alone  in  the  frozen  forest,  waiting 
for  the  sun. 

His  thoughts  were  both  quiet  and  happy.  His  brief 
favour  with  the  Duke  he  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to 
mourn ;  with  Joan  to  wife,  and  my  Lord  Foxham  for  a 
faithful  patron,  he  looked  most  happily  upon  the  future  ; 
and  in  the  past  he  found  but  little  to  regret. 

As  he  thus  strolled  and  pondered,  the  solemn  light  of 
the  morning  grew  more  clear,  the  east  was  akeady  coloured 
by  the  sun,  and  a  little  scathing  wind  blew  up  the  frozen 
snow.  He  turned  to  go  home ;  but  even  as  he  turned, 
his  eye  lit  upon  a  figure  behind  a  tree. 

"  Stand  ! "  he  cried.     ''  Who  goes  ? " 

The  figure  stepped  forth  and  waved  its  hand  like  a  dumb 
person.  It  was  arrayed  like  a  pilgrim,  the  hood  lower- 
ed over  the  face,  but  Dick,  in  an  instant,  recognized  Sir 
Daniel. 

He  strode  up  to  him,  drawing  his  sword  ;  and  the 
knight,  putting  his  hand  in  his  bosom,  as  if  to  seize  a  hid- 
den weapon,  steadfastly  awaited  his  approach. 

"  Well,  Dickon,"  said  Sir  Daniel,  "  how  is  it  to  be  ?  Do 
ye  make  w^ar  upon  the  fallen  ?  " 


315 

"I  made  no  war  upon  your  life,"  replied  the  lad  ;  "I 
was  your  true  friend  until  ye  sought  for  mine ;  but  ye 
have  sought  for  it  gi-eedily." 

"Nay— seK-defeuce,"  replied  the  knight.  "And  now, 
boy,  the  news  of  this  battle,  and  the  presence  of  yon 
crooked  devil  here  in  mine  own  wood,  have  broken  me 
beyond  all  help.  I  go  to  Holy  wood  for  sanctuary  ;  thence 
overseas,  with  what  I  can  caiTy,  and  to  begin  life  again  in 
Burgundy  or  France." 

"Ye  may  not  go  to  Holywood,"  said  Dick. 

"How !     May  not  ?  "  asked  the  knight. 

"  Look  ye,  Sir  Daniel,  this  is  my  marriage  morn,"  said 
Dick  ;  "  and  yon  sun  that  is  to  rise  will  make  the  bright- 
est day  that  ever  shone  for  me.  Your  life  is  forfeit- 
doubly  forfeit,  for  my  father's  death  and  your  own  prac- 
tices to  meward.  But  I  myself  have  done  amiss  ;  I  have 
brought  about  men's  deaths  ;  and  upon  this  glad  day  I 
will  be  neither  judge  nor  hangman.  An  ye  were  the  devil, 
I  would  not  lay  a  hand  on  you.  An  ye  were  the  devil,  ye 
might  go  where  ye  will  for  me.  Seek  God's  forgiveness  ; 
mine  ye  have  freely.  But  to  go  on  to  Holywood  is  differ- 
ent. I  caiTy  arms  for  York,  and  I  will  suffer  no  spy  with- 
in their  lines.  Hold  it,  then,  for  certain,  if  ye  set  one  foot 
before  another,  I  will  uplift  my  voice  and  call  the  nearest 
post  to  seize  you." 

"  Ye  mock  me,"  said  Sir  Daniel.  *'  I  have  no  safety  out 
of  Holywood." 

"  I  care  no  more,"  returned  Richard.     "  I  let  j^ou  go 


316  THE   BLACK   AKKOW. 

east,  west,  or  south  ;  north  I  -will  not.  Holywood  is  shut 
against  you.  Go,  and  seek  not  to  return.  For,  once  ye 
are  gone,  I  will  warn  every  post  about  this  army,  and  there 
will  be  so  shrewd  a  watch  upon  all  pilgi4ms  that,  once 
af^ain,  were  ye  the  Yerydeyil,  ye  would  find  it  ruin  to  make 
the  essay." 

"  Ye  doom  me,"  said  Sir  Daniel,  gloomily. 

"I doom  you  not,"  returned  Richard.  "If  it  so  pleas^ 
you  to  set  your  valour  against  mine,  come  on  ;  and  thoilgh 
I  fear  it  be  disloyal  to  my  party,  I  will  take  the  challenge 
openly  and  fully,  fight  you  with  mine  own  single  strength, 
and  call  for  none  to  help  me.  So  shall  I  avenge  my  father, 
with  a  perfect  conscience." 

"  Ay,"  said  Sir  Daniel,  "  y'  have  a  long  sword  against 
my  dagger." 

"  I  rely  upon  Heaven  only,"  answered  Dick,  casting  his 
sword  some  way  behind  him  on  the  snow.  "Now,  if 
your  ill-fate  bids  you,  come  ;  and,  under  the  pleasure  of 
the  Almighty,  I  make  myself  bold  to  feed  your  bones  to 
foxes." 

"I  did  but  try  you,  Dickon,"  returned  the  knight,  with 
an  uneasy  semblance  of  a  laugh.  "  I  would  not  spill  your 
blood." 

"Go,  then,  ere  it  be  too  late,"  replied  Shelton.  "In 
five  minutes  I  will  call  the  post.  I  do  perceive  that  I  am 
too  long-suffering.  Had  but  our  places  been  reversed,  I 
should  have  been  bound  hand  and  foot  some  minutes 
\)ast. " 


dick's  revenge.  si 7 

**  Well,  Dickon,  I  will  go,"  replied  Sir  Daniel.  "When 
We  next  meet,  it  shall  repent  vou  that  ye  were  so  harsh." 

And  with  these  words,  the  knight  turned  and  began  to 
move  off  under  the  trees.  Dick  watched  him  with 
strangely-mingled  feelings,  as  he  went,  swiftly  and  warily, 
and  ever  and  again  turning  a  wicked  eye  upon  the  lad  who 
had  spared  him,  and  whom  he  still  suspected. 

There  was  upon  one  side  of  where  he  went  a  thicket, 
strongly  matted  with  green  itj,  and,  even  in  its  winter 
state,  imi^er^'iou3  to  the  eye.  Herein,  all  of  a  sudden,  a 
bow  sounded  like  a  note  of  music.  An  arrow  flew,  and 
with  a  great,  choked  cry  of  agony  and  anger,  the  Knight 
of  Tunstall  threw  up  his  hands  and  fell  forward  in  the 
snow. 

Dick  bounded  to  his  side  and  raised  him.  His  face  des- 
perately worked  ;  his  whole  body  was  shaken  by  contort- 
ing spasms. 

"  Is  the  aiTow  black  ?  "  he  gasped. 

**  It  is  black,"  replied  Dick,  gi-avely. 

And  then,  before  he  could  add  one  word,  a  desperate 
seizure  of  pain  shook  the  wounded  man  from  head  to  foot, 
so  that  his  body  leaped  in  Dick's  supporting  arms,  and 
with  the  extremity  of  that  pang  his  spirit  fled  in  silence. 

The  young  man  laid  him  back  gently  on  the  snow  and 
prayed  for  that  unprepared  and  guilty  spirit,  and  as  he 
prayed  the  sun  came  up  at  a  bound,  and  the  robins  began 
chirping  in  the  ivy. 

When  he  rose  to  his  feet,  he  found  another  man  upon 


318  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

his  knees  but  a  few  steps  behind  him,  and,  still  with  un- 
covered head,  he  waited  until  that  prayer  also  should  be 
over.  It  took  long  ;  the  man,  with  his  head  bowed  and 
his  face  covered  with  his  hands,  prayed  like  one  in  a  great 
disorder  or  distress  of  mind  ;  and  by  the  bow  that  lay  be- 
side him,  Dick  judged  that  he  was  no  other  than  the  archer 
who  had  laid  Sir  Daniel  low. 

At  length  he,  also,  rose,  and  showed  the  countenance  of 
Ellis  Duckworth. 

"Richard,"  he  said,  very  gravely,  "1  heard  you.  Ye 
took  the  better  part  and  pardoned  ;  I  took  the  worse,  and 
there  lies  the  clay  of  mine  enemy.     Pray  for  me." 

And  he  wrung  him  by  the  hand. 

"Sir,"  said  Eichard,  "I  will  pray  for  you,  indeed; 
though  how  I  may  prevail  I  wot  not.  But  if  ye  have  so 
long  pursued  revenge,  and  find  it  now  of  such  a  sorry 
flavour,  bethink  ye,  were  it  not  well  to  pardon  others  ? 
Hatch — he  is  dead,  poor  shrew !  I  would  have  spared  a 
better  ;  and  for  Sir  Daniel,  here  lies  his  body.  But  for 
the  priest,  if  I  might  anywise  prevail,  I  would  have  you 
let  him  go." 

A  flash  came  into  the  eyes  of  Ellis  Duckworth. 

"Nay,"  he  said,  "the  devil  is  still  strong  within  me. 
But  be  at  rest ;  the  Black  Arrow  flieth  nevermore— the 
feUowship  is  broken.  They  that  still  live  shall  come  to 
their  quiet  and  ripe  end,  in  Heaven's  good  time,  for  me  ; 
and  for  yourself,  go  where  youi'  better  fortune  calls  you, 
and  think  no  more  of  Ellis." 


coxcLrsioN.  319 


CHAPTEK  MIL 


CONCLUSION. 


About  nine  in  the  morning,  Lord  Foxliam  was  leading 
his  ward,  once  more  dressed  as  befitted  her  sex,  and  fol- 
lowed by  Alicia  Risingham,  to  the  church  of  Holvwood, 
when  Richard  Crookback,  his  brow  already  heaw  with 
cares,  crossed  theii'  path  and  paused. 

"  Is  this  the  maid  ?  "  he  asked  ;  and  when  Lord  Foxham 
had  rephed  in  the  affirmative,  "  Minion,"  he  added,  "  hold 
up  your  face  until  I  see  its  favour." 

He  looked  upon  her  sourly  for  a  little. 

''Ye  are  fair,"  he  said  at  last,  "and,  as  they  tell  me, 
dowered.  How  if  I  offered  you  a  brave  mamage,  as  be- 
came your  face  and  pai-entage  ?  " 

•'  My  lord  duke/'  replied  Joanna,  "may  it  please  your 
grace,  I  had  rather  wed  with  Sir  Richard." 

*'  How  so  ?  "  he  asked,  harshly.  "  Marry  but  the  man  I 
name  to  you,  and  he  shall  be  my  lord,  and  you  my  lady, 
before  night.  For  Sir  Richard,  let  me  tell  you  plainly,  he 
will  die  Sir  Richard." 

"I  ask  no  more  of  Heaven,  my  lord,  than  but  to  die  Sir 
Richard's  wife,"  returned  Joanna. 

"  Look  ye  at  that,  my  lord,"  said  Gloucester,  turning  to 
Lord  Foxham.  ''  Here  be  a  pair  for  you.  The  lad,  when 
for  "food  services  I  jT^avehim  his  choice  of  mv  favour,  chose 


320  THE    BLACK    ARROW. 

but  the  grace  of  an  old,  clruiiken  shipman.  I  did  warn 
him  freely,  but  be  was  stout  in  bis  besottedness.  'Here 
dietb  3'our  favour,'  said  I ;  and  be,  my  lord,  "witb  a  most 
assured  impertinence,  'Mine  be  tbe  loss,'  quotb  be.  It 
sball  be  so,  by  tbe  rood  !  " 

"Said  be  so?"  cried  Alicia.  "Tben  well  said,  lion- 
driver  !  " 

"  Wbo  is  tbis?  "  asked  tbe  duke. 

"A  prisoner  of  Sir  Kicbard's,"  answered  Lord  Foxbam  ; 
*'  Mistress  Alicia  Eisingbam." 

"  See  tbat  sbe  be  married  to  a  sure  man,"  said  tbe 
duke. 

"I  bad  tbougbt  of  my  kinsman,  Hamley,  an  it  like  your 
gi-ace,"  returned  Lord  Foxbam.  "  He  hatb  well  served  tbe 
cause." 

"It  likes  me  well,"  said  Ricbard.  " Let  tbem  be  wedded 
speedily.     Say,  fair  maid,  will  you  wed  ?  " 

"  My  lord  duke,"  said  Alicia,  "  so  as  tbe  man  is  straigbt  '* 

And  tbere,  in  a  perfect  consternation,  tbe  voice  died 

on  ber  tongue. 

'•He is  straigbt,  my  mistress,"  replied  Eicbard,  calmly. 
"I  am  tbe  only  crookback  of  my  party  ;  we  are  else  pass- 
ably well  sbapen.  Ladies,  and  you,  my  lord,"  be  added, 
witb  a  sudden  cbange  to  grave  courtesy,  "judge  me  not 
too  cburlisb  if  I  leave  you.  A  captain,  in  tbe  time  of  war, 
batb  not  tbe  ordering  of  bis  bours." 

And  witb  a  very  bandsome  salutation  he  passed  on,  fol- 
lowed by  bis  officers. 


CONCLUSION.  321 

"Alack,"  cried  Alicia,  "  I  am  shent !  " 

**  Ye  know  him  not,"  replied  Lord  Foxham.  "  It  is  but 
a  trifle  ;  he  hath  already  clean  forgot  your  words." 

"He  is,  then,  the  very  flower  of  knighthood,"  said 
Alicia. 

•'Nay,  he  but  mindeth  other  things,"  returned  Lord 
Foxham.     "Tarry  we  no  more." 

In  the  chancel  they  found  Dick  waiting,  attended  by  a 
few  young  men  ;  and  there  were  he  and  Joan  united. 
When  they  came  forth  again,  hapjDy  and  yet  serious,  into 
the  frosty  air  and  sunlight,  the  long  files  of  the  army  were 
already  winding  forward  up  the  road  ;  already  the  Duke 
of  Gloucester's  banner  was  unfolded  and  began  to  move 
from  before  the  abbey  in  a  clump  of  spears  ;  and  behind 
it,  girt  by  steel-clad  knights,  the  bold,  black-hearted,  and 
ambitious  hunchback  moved  on  towards  his  brief  kingdom 
and  his  lasting  infamy.  But  the  wedding  party  turned 
upon  the  other  side,  and  sat  down,  with  sober  merriment, 
to  breakfast.  The  father  cellarer  attended  on  their  wants, 
and  sat  with  them  at  table.  Hamley,  all  jealousy  forgot- 
ten, began  to  ply  the  nowise  loth  Alicia  with  courtship. 
And  there,  amid  the  sounding  of  tuckets  and  the  clash  of 
armoured  soldiery  and  horses  continually  moving  forth, 
Dick  and  Joan  sat  side  by  side,  tenderly  held  hands,  and 
looked,  with  ever  growing  afiection,  in  each  other's  eyes. 

Thenceforth  the  dust  and  blood  of  that  unruly  epoch 
passed  them   by.     They  dwelt  apart  from  alarms  in  the 

green  forest  where  their  love  began. 
21 


322  THE    BLACK    AEROW. 

Two  old  men  in  the  meanwhile  enjoyed  pensions  in  gi'eat 
prosperity  and  peace,  and  with  perhaps  a  superfluity  of 
ale  and  wine,  in  Tunstall  hamlet.  One  had  been  all  his 
life  a  shipman,  and  continued  to  the  last  to  lament  his  man 
Tom.  The  other,  w^ho  had  been  a  bit  of  everything,  turned 
in  the  end  towards  piety,  and  made  a  most  religious  death 
under  the  name  of  Brother  Honestus  in  the  neighbouring 
abbey.     So  Lawless  had  his  will,  and  died  a  friar. 

\-OHIVERSITT 

THS   END. 


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